The Catalyst
by KJ Moon
Summary: Distraught after their mother set sail, Elrohir and Elladan seek revenge hunting orcs, refusing to return home. Their hunt for vengeance leads them far into Mirkwood. With one of them injured they take refuge in Thranduil's halls where they meet a lonely elfling, Legolas.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Tolkien's sand box, my game.**

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**Catalyst ****_defn:_**

1. A person who creates or causes change; Someone or something that helps bring about a change or causes an important event to happen

2. A person whose talk, enthusiasm or energy causes others to be more friendly, enthusiastic or energetic.

3. [Insert favorite chemistry related definition]

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**The Catalyst**

**By K.J. Moon**

**Prologue**

Throughout the ages, Elrond had experienced many forms of grief and despair. None of which had prepared him for the shock and heartbreaking sadness he felt when he came to learn the extent of his beloved wife's suffering under the hands of Orcs. Celebrían had been to travelling to Lothlórien on invitation of her parents. When Elrond received word from Celeborn that Celebrían had not yet arrived, he had grown concerned, a shadow of fear closed around his heart.

His son's rode out with great haste, ill prepared for what they would find. Deep within the Caradhras at Red Horn Pass, a large band of orcs had waylaid her escort, capturing her. When they learned of the Orc attack they searched tirelessly until chancing upon a cave, where inside they found her. She had been brutally violated, bound, was poisoned and only half alive.

Elrond spent hours lovingly and carefully tending to her wounds. Using all the knowledge of the healing arts he possessed he was able to heal her physically, but her spirit was broken. A broken spirit could not easily be mended. Celebrían could no longer find beauty in the world and grew weary of it. Only in Valinor with the help of the Valar would she find the strength to heal. Only in Valinor could her spirit be mended and light returned to her eyes. Her choice to set sail was not a selfish one, none of her family wished for their beloved Celebrían to enter the Halls of Mandos.

Elrond grieved for his wife. He took comfort in knowing he would one day see her again. Though that day would not be for a very long time. He wished to journey with her, but his heart still belonged in Middle Earth. He had the gift of foresight and knew these lands still needed him.

It was his children that Elrond was most concerned for. His three children had lived peaceful and happy lives in Imladris. They were unaccustomed to grief and despair. His daughter Arwen, heartbroken over her mother's pain fled to Lothlórien, into the loving arms of her Grandmother. Elrond's twin sons, Elrohir and Elladan had reacted in a completely different manner.

His sons were similar in many ways, not just in appearance but also in their skills, interests, and morals. To Elrond's surprise their differences lay in how they dealt with their grief. In his grief Elrohir was volatile and emotional, quick to anger and tears. During the day he was destructive, his actions were unpredictable and uncontrollable. Under the light of the stars he fled into the arms of his Father or Brother, and would sob uncontrollably, tormented by the sight of his mother, of which they found her. Endless tears would flow from his eyes, leaving Elrond at a loss of what to do.

Elladan on the other hand was the exact opposite. He wore his pain as a mask of indifference. He kept it all in, withdrawing from the world, his despair reflecting only in his eyes. He would let no one in and let nothing out. Elladan did not cry, rarely would he speak. He was like a dam, holding all emotion within ready to burst. Elrond tried to get Elladan to open up to him. To feel something, but Elladan was cold as ice. His heart was frozen in grief. On rare moments would Elladan allow only his brother to comfort him, for only Elrohir truly understood the pain he felt. Elladan would rest his head upon his brother's lap and lay there, cold, seemingly void of all emotion.

Elrond was not sure which one concerned him more, an irrational son who showed excessive amounts of negative emotion or a son who did not show any emotion at all. He decided it was the latter rather than the former. Elladan needed to grieve, he needed to talk or his pain would slowly destroy him.

Though the sons of Elrond were different in how they dealt with the loss of their mother, they both desired the same thing. **Revenge**. Ignoring the pleas of their father to stay, the brothers set out on a journey to hunt and eliminate any orc that dare cross their path. They would not stop, vowing not to return home until their self appointed task was complete. Elrond grieved for his sons. His children's desire to leave came as a second blow to his wife's need to.

Many seasons had came and gone since anyone had of heard or seen Elladan and Elrohir. Elrond feared he would never see them again. Elrond was constantly tormented by worry, until one night he had vision.


	2. Unexpected Visitors

**Chapter 1 - Unexpected Visitors**

The morning air was stale and frigid. The overcast sky lay as a thick blanket over Mirkwood; dark and gloomy shielding the earth from any warmth the sun may have had to offer that morning. The trees relinquished the last of their autumn colored leaves to the forest floor, becoming barren dark skeletons of nature. The smell of forthcoming snow lingered in the air.

Outside the Elvenking's palace nestled in the highest branch of one the tallest trees, blending in with the soft moss-covered bark sat a curious elfling with inquisitive bright blue eyes. He wore a dark green overtunic paired with dark leggings. Around his neck, hidden beneath layers of clothing was the elfling's he most important possession, he wore an emerald pendant resembling that of a leaf, hanging delicately on a mithril chain.

The elfling made to reach for his pendant, then stopped remembering his training. He had to sit there still and unmoving. His teacher had taught him that the slightest movement could give his position away. He was determined not to let that happen. For just below him one of the King's patrol units was passing by oblivious to the fact they were privy to the watchful eyes of an elfling.

The elfling recognized the patrol unit as his cousin's. A flutter of excitement flew though him as he fought the urge to jump down from the tree and greet him. It had been a full moon cycle since he had last seen Noron and could not wait to hear his stories.

His eyes widened as he noticed his cousin was flanked between two strangely hooded figures. They did not appear to be messengers. Messengers did not hide their appearance beneath tattered weatherworn dark cloaks. These figures seemed too suspicious to be one of his father's visitors. Any visitors of late who dare enter the dark forest normally arrived with an escort numbering along the lines of a small army. Precautions were always made when one chose to enter Mirkwood.

So the elfling reasoned they must be humans or rather human prisoners. Maybe his cousin's patrol had caught humans trespassing? The thought of seeing humans excited the elfling, he longed to rest his eyes upon the second born, such strange creatures, but his father had told him he was far too young. Though he had never before seen a human he knew much of them having been told many stories of them from Mithrandir. All of his knowledge of humans either came from Mithrandir's stories or his father's history books.

If the humans were prisoners then his only chance to see a them would be in his father's receiving chambers, for he was not allowed anywhere near the dungeons where the prisoners would be kept. The elfling had to get a closer look before they disappeared forever. He had to find a way to sneak into the King's receiving room. Another flutter of excitement this time mixed with anticipation soared through him as he realized that his newly learned skills would finally be put to a proper test.

The Elvenking sat on his throne awaiting the announcement of his sudden unexpected visitors. He had received word from his nephew that the Son's of Elrond had been found roaming through his forest. He was curious as to why they were in Mirkwood unannounced, having not received any official notice from Elrond.

In fact he had not heard from Elrond since Celebrían's departure to the Undying Lands, which was some time ago. He had no issues with his friend's sons entering his realm. He just wished to be informed when they chose to do so. Though Elrond was a good friend of his, Thranduil did not like the idea of his children roaming through Mirkwood without his knowledge. In these dark times trust was privilege not a courtesy.

Thranduil sensed the presence of another; he frowned as he carefully eyed a marble pillar to his left. _Legolas._ He sighed shaking is head. He would deal with _that_ later. He snapped back into attention as the giant stone doors opened. Two cloaked figures entered the receiving room, led by his nephew. Simultaneously they drew down their hoods revealing their travel worn faces as they knelt to bow before the King.

Smothering laughter, Legolas sat hidden behind a large marble pillar; thick vines of leafy ivy were wrapped up and around the sturdy column. He was proud of his accomplishment, sneaking in had been far easier than he had expected.

Legolas smothered a gasp as the cloaked figures entered the room and drew down their hoods. They were both elves, mere images of each other. Forgetting to be disappointed by the fact that they were not humans, he gazed upon them in awe and wonder. Never before had he seen two elves that looked exactly the same. This revelation was far more interesting than humans. They were identical in every way. Legolas was not sure what to think. Why did they look the same? Were one real and the other fake? He rubbed his eyes, a trick of the light? He frowned as he saw their faces, their eyes held no trace of happiness, no smile. More importantly, why did they look so sad?

"Your Majesty King Thranduil may I present Lords Elladan and Elrohir."

Thranduil stood from his throne and approached the Peredhil twins, clasping their arms in greeting. Thranduil frowned slightly. The twins did not look well. They both had dark circles underneath their eyes and one of them was deathly pale. They both were marred with cuts and bruises. They looked as if they had travelled long and hard with little rest. From their appearance they appeared to be more human than elfkind. Thranduil could only make out a faint trace of light around them. He vowed at that moment he would do whatever he could to help the sons of Elrond.

"My Lords Welcome," greeted the ElvenKing. "It has been many centuries since you have last graced the Halls of Mirkwood."

"An star shines upon the hour of our meeting," the less pale of them spoke. Thranduil always had trouble telling them apparent. At the moment he was not actually sure which brother he was speaking to.

"What brings you to my Woodland Realm?" Thranduil asked getting straight to the point.

"We were tracking a small band of orcs that had slaughtered a human settlement up in the North. We were waiting for them to drop their guard in hopes of ambushing them. Just before we had the chance they had met up with another larger band warg riders. The two of us alone did not have the means to eliminate such a large group. So we set out to follow them instead. They lead us here into Mirkwood, where we unfortunately lost track of them."

This news disturbed Thranduil. He had not received word from any of his messengers or bird spies that orcs or wargs had been spotted within his trees. He would definitely have to look into this and send out warning to the outer Elven villages to be on guard. He wished to question the twins further but his fatherly impulses told him the Peredhil were in dire need of rest.

Elladan stood there in a clouded daze barely comprehending what his brother was discussing with the King. There was a sharp pain in his chest that was growing more agonizing by the second. His brow creased with a thin sheen of sweat. He would soon no longer be able to hide the pain from his brother both physically through his actions and mentally through the bond they shared.

Some time ago Elladan had chosen closed off their bond, unwilling to cause Elrohir to suffer through his own emotional turmoil. He could feel his will weakening. Elladan felt himself loosing strength inadvertently releasing his pain, as he heard Elrohir gasp. Through his peripheral vision he saw his twin bring his arm up to his chest in a show of pain. A sense of guilt shot through Elladan. He had failed; he had unwillingly shared his pain with his dear brother, causing him unnecessary suffering.

"My Lord are you well?" one of Thranduil's councilors asked Elrohir, noticing his sudden distress. The room grew silent at the sudden interruption.

Elrohir ignored the question turning to his brother, "Elladan why did you not tell me?" His voice shook, riddled with concern, in turn confusing Thranduil's councilor.

Elrohir grasped Elladan's arm, he could feel is twin trembling beneath his touch. Why would Elladan not say anything? Though Elladan tried to hide it, his face was contorted with pain. His complexion had lost all trace of color. His breathing came in small gasps. More importantly how could he have not noticed? Was he so consumed with himself that he failed to notice Elladan had been injured? Waves of shame and guilt washed through Elrohir.

Elladan tried to answer his brother but instead brought his hand up to his mouth, falling into a fit of painful coughs that brought tears to his eyes. The pain he felt was unbearable. He could feel every pair of eyes in the room watching him with interest and concern. His head felt extremely heavy. Darkness swam into his vision as his body swayed dangerously before his knees gave way unable to support him. Darkness took over as he felt himself falling to the ground.

"Elladan!" Elrohir cried out, catching his brother before he hit the marble floor.


	3. Promises and Rules

**Chapter 2 – Promises and Rules**

Thranduil was instantly at their side helping Elrohir to carefully lower his injured brother to the ground. Without hesitating he started shouting off orders calling for a healer and a litter.

"Where is he injured?" Thranduil asked kneeling beside Elrohir.

"His chest, that is where I felt a sudden sharp pain," Elrohir replied. Hands shaking, he started to unbutton his bother's tunic. Thranduil's steady hands offered assistance.

Thranduil's brow furrowed when he saw Elladan's chest. It was swollen and bruised. Three angry looking gashes cut across his muscular frame, angrily marking the pale skin. Elladan's previous bought of coughing had torn the healing tissue. The deepest of the three wounds began bleeding anew.

"He has at least one broken rib," Thranduil stated. He was no healer but having lived in Mirkwood for the past three thousand and some years he had both seen and experienced a fair share of battle wounds. Thranduil could easily identify and treat them.

"I-I did not know he was injured otherwise-" Elrohir stammered.

"It is alright, I will send my best healer to care for him," Thranduil interrupted softly. Assuring Elrohir that his twin would get the best possible care Mirkwood could provide.

"Are you injured?" the Elvenking asked turning his attention over to Elrohir, carefully eyeing him up and down.

The twin let out a shaky breath as he shook his head, "No, I am fine."

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Legolas sat there, eyes wide and in shock. He had never before witnessed an open injury. He had only ever seen injured elves when they were lying in bed healing, not after they had obtained the injury. The cuts across the elf's chest frightened him. Not only that but the two identical elves seemed to feel each other's pain. Were they magic?

He sat behind the marble pillar trembling as he saw two healers lift the injured elf onto a litter and carry him away, followed closely by his identical companion. Legolas sat silently hunched in his hiding spot until the room was empty of everyone except his father.

"Legolas what have I told you about hiding in here?" Thranduil questioned breaking the silence.

Legolas startled at the sudden noise. He felt foolish thinking father had not noticed his presence. Slowly he crawled out from behind the pillar. He hung his head in shame as he approached the King who had reclaimed his position on the throne. Legolas stood before him ashamed and refusing to make eye contact.

"Legolas I am very disappointed. You know better than to come in here uninvited," The King chastised.

Legolas flinched at his father's tone. Thranduil would never shout or raise his voice towards his elfling but his tone was not that soft fatherly tone he usually had when speaking with his son.

"Legolas look at me," Thranduil demanded.

Slowly Legolas raised his eyes up to meet his fathers. He trembled at the intensity of his father's gaze. The look alone told him he was in trouble.

"I need you to understand that you are not permitted to enter here unless you are invited. As punishment you are not allowed to go outside for the rest of today and all of tomorrow."

The elfling's eyes widened at this. Not allowed to go outside? That means he would not be able to practice his tracking skills on the squirrels or play tag with the fox he had befriended two mornings ago.

"I am sorry Ada. Are you very mad at me?" Legolas asked in a small voice. His bottom lip trembled as he twirled his prized emerald pendant between his fingers.

"I am disappointed that you disobeyed my rules. I have them in place for a reason," Thranduil answered placing his hand atop his son's, stilling the elfling's movements. Legolas' bright blue eyes filled with tears. He did not wish to be a disappointment to his father.

Once Thranduil was sure his message hand sunk in he reached his arms out towards Legolas, lifting his child onto his lap. Now that the discipline was done with it was time for comfort. Legolas was a very sensitive elfling. Thranduil hoped that he did not take the discipline too far. His rules were meant to protect his son not hurt him. Legolas' small arms reached around his father as he buried his face into his shoulder. Thranduil wrapped his arms around his child holding him close.

Thranduil was well aware of what Legolas had just witnessed and how Elladan's injury had affected the elfling. That was one of the very reasons why he would not permit Legolas entrance into the receiving room while it was in concession. Elflings grow up fast. After the events surrounding the Queen, Thranduil wanted to protect his elfling's innocence from the dangers and worries of the world for as long as he could. He poured all of his love into his son.

"Ada will he be alright?" Legolas suddenly asked referring to Elladan.

"He will heal," Thranduil simply stated.

"I hope so, it was scary," Legolas said hugging his father tighter.

"Ion nin," Thranduil replied gently stroking his son's soft hair. "Though his injuries may look scary they are not fatal. They are not so serious that Rudiel cannot heal them."

Legolas quickly agreed with his father. Legolas trusted Rudiel and thought him to be the best healer in all of Arda. Many times Mirkwood's Master Healer had cleaned and cared for his accidental cuts, scrapes, and bruises. Rudiel was always kind and gentle. The Master Healer would often spend time with Legolas, allowing the elfling to join him on his walks searching for medicinal herbs. It was an activity Legolas rather enjoyed and something Rudiel was proud to do. He enjoyed sharing his knowledge of medicinal plants with the elfling. Thranduil also approved. Knowledge of the healing arts was just as important as mastery of a weapon in Mirkwood. He thought it wise and encouraged his son to learn of the medicinal properties of plants found it he forest. Knowledge of the plants could one day be the very difference between life and death for his son.

"How was the Elf injured?" Legolas meekly asked.

"I plan to find that out later. I think perhaps right now its best to let them rest," Thranduil answered.

"Ada, why do those two elves look the same?"

Thranduil not knowing how to explain the concept of twins in a way his son would understand suggested, "Perhaps that is a question you could ask them when you meet them later."

"I will get to meet them?" Legolas asked excited.

"Yes, they are sons of an important friend of mine. Now Tithen Las look at me," Thranduil said.

He waited for his son to lift his head and make eye contact once again before continuing, "I need you to understand; you are not permitted to disturb them. You are also not permitted entry into their rooms unless invited. Can I trust you?" Thranduil knew how curious his elfling was. He constantly needed to set precautions limiting his son's inquisitive actions.

Legolas vigorously nodded, "You can trust me, I promise Ada."

"That's my boy," Thranduil chuckled. "Now why don't you tell me how you managed to sneak past my highly trained guards?" he asked changing the subject.

Legolas relayed his story about how he silently crawled past the guards keeping close to the bottom of the wall. Thranduil wasn't too sure how to take this information. He was proud that his son's stealth skills were greatly improving but disappointed that his guards failed to notice the presence of a tiny elfling. Is my_ son's skill so great that it surpassed the watchful eyes of my guards or are my guards not as attentive as their training calls for? _Thranduil pondered.

Thranduil's thoughts were broken when Galion came into the room, notifying the King that his advisors had been waiting for some time for his counsel. The King let out a long sigh, he always lost track of time when in the company of Legolas. Thranduil would have loved to sit there all afternoon talking quietly with his son but duty calls and the Peredhils' appearance and run in with orcs had to be discussed.

"Las, I heard Laelle was searching for you," Thranduil said. "Why don't you run along and see if you can find her? Remember though, you are not allowed to go outside."

"Yes Ada," Legolas said sliding off his father's lap.

Thranduil bent forward to kiss his son's forehead, " I have council all afternoon, but I shall see you at the evening meal."

Legolas smiled brightly at his father, warming Thranduil's heart, before running out of the room to find his nursemaid.

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Elrohir watched as the King's healers tended to his unconscious brother. He had offered to help but they kindly refused. In his current state, any aid Elrohir could lend would not be effective and only hinder their actions.

Elrohir stood off to the side of the room, unmoving, staring helplessly at his brother's pale lifeless face. He berated himself, how could he not have noticed that Elladan was injured. He had failed his brother. Lost in his own dark thoughts Elrohir had not noticed that the healers had finished their ministrations and had emptied the room, that be all except for one.

The healer's eyes were caring, his touch was gentle as he softly grasped Elrohir's forearm and silently lead him across the room, guiding him into chair set at his brother's bedside. Elrohir was unfazed as he felt himself being pushed into the cushioned chair, not taking his eyes off Elladan's face. The two sat there silently for some time.

It was the healer who spoke first, breaking the silence, "His wounds are not infected. They will heal smoothly. Three of his ribs are broken. Had they been left untreated for any longer his right lung would have been punctured."

Elrohir swallowed, not trusting himself to speak.

The healer continued, " I have given him some herbs to stop the bleeding. They appear to be effective. We have reset and bound his ribs. The healing process will be painful for him, limiting his upper body movement. He is currently in a deep healing sleep. He should awaken sometime today or tomorrow at the latest."

Elrohir let out a sigh of relief. Elladan would awaken. Elladan would be fine. Elladan would heal.

"He just needs rest. As do you," the healer said eyeing Elrohir.

"I am fine," Elrohir replied. He was unwilling to leave his brother's bedside, at least not until Elladan had woken up.

"I expected as much," the healer said thoughtfully. "I will have one of the servants bring you a hot meal. You should at least try to eat something. I will also prepare a tea for your brother to drink once he awakens."

Now that the healer had mentioned it, Elrohir found he was feeling quite hungry. A proper meal was not a luxury they could afford while hunting orcs.

"Thank you," Elrohir said, bowing his head slightly in a show of respect.

"It is my pleasure. Now I have other patients to tend to, so I will leave you be. I shall come back in a couple hours to check on both of you."

Once he was alone in the room Elrohir reached for his brother's hand, clasping it tightly. Elladan seemed to shut him out more and more each day. Everyday he had to concentrate a little harder to feel their bond. Elrohir knew their mother's fate affected Elladan more then he let on. Elrohir wanted nothing more then to help his brother, but how could you help someone who would not admit they are hurting?

Elladan always tried to appear strong and unmoving as if he were stone. _But stone can still crack_, Elrohir thought. Elrohir knew his brother was dangerously close to the beginnings of fading. His father's last words to him before he and Elladan set out were to watch over his brother, to help him, lend aid to his healing. Elrohir knew if he did not do something soon he would fail both of them. Elrohir could not do anything though, not if Elladan would not let him in.

Elrohir gently placed a hand over his brother's chest, the other on top of his forehead. He closed his eyes in concentration as he channeled healing energy towards his brother. Elrohir did this every night when Elladan was asleep, hoping the warm glow would comfort his brother in his dreams. Elrohir usually felt exhausted afterwards but seeing the small smile that would creep its way on to his brother's face made it worth it. Elrohir felt guilty, the past few nights they spent in Mirkwood, he was unable to do this for his brother and as a result had not discovered his injury.

This time Elrohir channeled more energy towards his brother than usual. He and his brother had inherited this skill from their father. The blood of the Maia, Melian, ran through their veins. Though Elrohir's skill was not as powerful as his father's or his brother's he still had been taught to control it. Elrohir concentrated, channeling powerful amounts of energy towards Elladan's lungs and ribs, willing them to heal. Elrohir was soon overcome with a feeling of lightheadedness. He berated himself for his lack of skill, as he slumped foreword unconsciously half on, half off the bed beside his brother.

That was how Rudiel found him hours later when came back to check on them. Rudiel's gentle hands probed Elrohir's neck, checking his pulse. His heart was beating slower than it should be. He frowned when he felt how ice cold to the touch Elrohir's skin was.

Rudiel gently lifted the elf and placed him on bed next to his brother. He discretely checked Elrohir over for injuries. He was relieved to discover the elf had been telling the truth he was uninjured. Rudiel walked over to the wardrobe to fetch a thick quilt, which he wrapped tightly around the cold twin.

Satisfied Rudiel went over to check on Elladan. He was shocked but pleased to see color had returned to his complexion. Carefully he unwound his bandages and saw the bruising was brought down to a minimum, the three cuts that previously marred his flesh were no more than mere fading lines across his torso. Rudiel carefully put more healing salve on the elf before bandaging his injuries.

Rudiel put two and two together. _Elrohir must posses his father's rare skill of healing_, he thought. Rudiel was old friends with Elrond and had seen Elrond overexert himself many times before while using his skill of healing. He gently brushed a few strands of hair away Elrohir's face then went to fetch another quilt, draping over the twins, before exiting the room to let them sleep undisturbed.

_TBC_

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**A/N:** Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! This will NOT be a bathtub story where an elf is injured laying in bed, and every possible character makes an apperance sitting around their bed mourning the injured elf for like 10 chapters. I cannot stand reading stories like that and will never write one. So you may find that Elladan will heal fast.. the point of this story isn't his physical injury but the emotional ones the twins have. I also wrote this ff like a story, where you have an introduction - rising action - climax -then falling action/conclusion.

I also really like writing elfling Legolas, so be prepared to read cute elfling Legolas moments.

I have this whole story outlined and a nice chunk of it already written. There will be roughy 15-20 chapters.

**Thank you everyone who has reviewed, favourited, alerted/followed this story! Comments and constructive criticism ****are also greatly appreciated! Thank you everyone for your support! **


	4. Spiders and Friends

**Chapter 3 –Spiders and Friends**

The sound of a soft groan reached his ears, causing Elrohir to snap awake. Disoriented he wasn't aware of where the intruding noise came from. He felt cold and weak. Elrohir knew he had over exerted himself; he had gone against his father's cautions and poured too much of his energy into Elladan. Elrohir knew the dangers that came with overuse of his healing powers. They were like a double-edged sword. If he used too much of his energy he would hurt himself more than he could help others.

Elrohir's eyes quickly scanned the room. He saw the soft glow of light from the setting sun filter into the room through the bedchamber's single window. He realized he must have slept the whole day, for Elladan and himself where led to Thranduil's halls early in the morning. He was hoping it was at least still the same day.

Slowly Elrohir turned towards his brother. He heard the groan again and realized the soft sound came from his twin. His heart soared when he saw Elladan's eyes flutter. Throwing the blankets off himself, he leaned over his brother, grasping his left hand tightly as he softly stroked Elladan's still too pale cheek.

"Brother, hear my voice come back to the light," Elrohir whispered. "Hear my voice dear one, please awaken."

Slowly Elladan opened his eyes, taking time to adjust to the light of the room. He gazed up towards Elrohir's face. Elladan's expression fell as saw tears falling from his brother's dark grief-stricken eyes. Remorsefully Elladan brought his hand up to gently wipe the free falling tears away from his twin's face.

"I am sorry Brother. I did not wish to cause you worry," Elladan said. His eyes filled with anguish. It tore at him to see Elrohir cry, knowing he was the cause of the tears.

Elrohir weakly smiled, he had not realized he had been crying. He grasped Elladan's hand holding it firmly against his wet cheek. "Nay Brother, I am just relieved you are well. It would be unbearable if I lost you too," he said.

"How long have I been asleep?" Elladan asked.

Elrohir helped his brother up towards a sitting position, supporting his back with large fluffy pillows. Elladan grimaced at the sharp aching pain in his chest.

"Since this morning, it is almost nightfall. Here brother, drink this," Elrohir said, bringing a cup of warm tea to Elladan's lips.

"A healer called Rudiel made it for you," Elrohir continued. "He was the one who tended to your injuries. He told me the tea contains a sedative to relieve the pain but will make you feel drowsy."

Elladan obediently drank the tea. He was surprised to find it wasn't that horrible tasting and the effects were instantaneous, as the pain seemed to vanish. He couldn't recall having anything like this back at Imladris.

Once Elladan had finished he confessed, "I am sorry I caused you such grief. I only hid my pain from you to prevent you from feeling it. I did not wish to hurt you more. It pains me to realize that I was still the cause of your tears. Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. It should be I who asks for your forgiveness. I had not even noticed you were injured. Do not hide your pain from me brother. Let me help you. Let me comfort you as you comfort me," Elrohir replied.

Elladan looked deeply into his brother's eyes before he felt the predicted drowsiness of the tea take hold of him. He did not fight the effects as his eyes began to close, letting himself drift off into the peaceful healing sleep. He did not wish to dampen his recovery. The faster he could heal, the sooner they could continue hunting orcs. Elladan didn't want to linger in Mirkwood any longer then what was necessary.

Elrohir simply stroked his sleeping brother's hair. Knowing Elladan was unable to hear him, Elrohir softly whispered, "You are filled with more despair than I brother. I can see it in your eyes. Why will you not let me help you? Why do you block our bond? Why do you choose to lock all emotion away within yourself and not seek comfort? Can't you see? It's slowly destroying you."

* * *

The sun was setting. The first day of his punishment was almost complete. After tomorrow he could go outside again. Legolas sat hunched over a table in one of his father's private sitting rooms. He sat alone in the room on a cushioned chair, swinging his legs, softly humming to himself.

Legolas was drawing a picture of his father for his father. His fingers were stained with coal as he worked intently on trying to get the shading just right. He frowned clearly frustrated. No matter how many attempts he made the picture just ended up looking wrong. Legolas wished he were better at drawing faces. If he wanted to gift this to his father it had to be perfect.

His father, cousin and other important elves were in council. Legolas was not permitted to disturb them unless there was an emergency. The elfling did not mind being alone though. Soon the stars would rise marking the start of the evening meal where he would be reunited with his father. The meal always followed with dance, song and stories. Legolas loved that time. He would sit upon his father's knee, listening and occasionally participating in the merrymaking of the elves around him.

Legolas was so intently focused on his self appointed task of shading in his father's face for the umpteenth time that he failed to notice the tiny spider crawling across the table until it ended up on his hand.

Legolas felt a soft tickling sensation move across the back of his hand. Irritated he looked down, finally taking notice to the tiny spider. Legolas paled as he screamed, shaking his hand to get the feigned beast off him and inadvertently flinging it across the room. Legolas frantically wiped his hands on the front of his tunic, smearing coal all over himself before jumping out of his seat running towards the closed door. There was a spider in the palace his father had to be notified.

Legolas had been taught that spiders were dangerous and he should always tell his father if he were to ever come across one. What he didn't realize was that, that rule only applied to the large dangerous spiders living outside in the forest. Not the small harmless ones found occasionally indoors. Regardless of how many times it was explained to him, Legolas did not understand the distinction between the two. He had never seen one of the big spiders outside before. A spider was a spider, whenever he saw one his brain screamed danger.

Legolas reached for the handle of the door desperately trying to push it open. He panicked when the door would not budge. He pushed harder forcing all his weight onto it, but still it would not open. In all of Legolas' attempts to open the door he forgot that to open this particular door you had to pull not push.

Legolas panicked, tears filled his eyes as he started to cry uncontrollably in fear. He was trapped in a chamber with a dangerous spider lost somewhere in the room. During sunset nobody was anywhere near this wing of the palace. Anybody who would normally make use of this room was in council. The servants including Lealle, his nursemaid was off at the dinning halls preparing for the evening meal.

Legolas sat down against the wall next to the door. He wrapped his arms around himself and reached for the leaf pendent around his neck seeking out its comfort. Legolas' small body shook as he cried. His breath came in large gasps making it difficult to take in air, as large hot tears streamed down his face.

* * *

Elrohir's mood was solemn as sat next to Elladan's bed holding onto his sleeping brother's hand. He sat there in silence listening to his brother's even breathing. It was during this moment when he was lost in his thoughts, that his elven hearing heard a small scream followed by banging. That was odd. King Thranduil was kind enough to offer him and his brother rooms in royal family's private wing. He had not heard anyone pass by the room in hours. He thought himself and his brother to be alone at this end of the palace.

He then heard what sounded like crying. Someone was crying? Was someone injured? Realizing he was the only one at this side of the palace able to help, his inner healer sprung into action. Taking one last glance at his brother, promising to return, Elrohir stood up and sprung out the door towards the noise.

His ears brought him to large dark oak door. Carefully he slowly pushed open the door. His sharp eyes quickly scanned the room. It appeared to be empty. Was this a trick? He then heard a gasping sob and looked down.

Elrohir was deeply disturbed at he sight before him. His heart tore into pieces, there was a blond elfling curled up into a tiny ball, shaking, gasping for air as tears flowed down his cheeks. He could tell these were not tears of pain but tears of fear, Elrohir and both seen and shed enough tears to be able to distinguish between the two. _What could possibly have happened to frighten an elfling so?_ Elrohir wondered as he knelt down before the elfling, gently scooping him into his arms.

"Shhh little one, I've got you," Elrohir soothed.

Legolas felt a gentle pair of arms lift him and embrace him. Legolas wrapped his arms around the elf's neck burying his head into the elf's shoulder, seeking the comfort that the stranger's embrace offered him. A sense of relief flooded through him. He was no longer trapped and alone with a spider. This elf had saved him.

Though Legolas had calmed greatly, his breathing still came in loud gasps hurting his chest. The elf stood with Legolas in his arms, slowly pacing the room as he spoke softly, "Penneth you are on the verge of hyperventilating, you must try to calm your breathing."

Legolas nodded in understanding, hot tears still rolling down his cheeks. He did not recognize the voice but listened to comforting tone. The elf pulled him close so Legolas' head was leaning against his chest. The elf soothingly rubbed his back.

"Follow my breathing, breath with me. In and out, in and out," the elf calmly said.

Legolas followed; soon his gasps subsided to his normal quiet breathing pattern. Legolas brushed the tears from his eyes, not realizing his hands were still dirty with coal, now smearing it across his face.

Once the elf was satisfied with Legolas' breathing, he carried Legolas across the room, gently placing him on the table. Legolas looked at the elf before him and gasped, realizing just who it was. This was one of his father's visitors, one of the mysterious identical magic elves.

"My name is Elrohir. What are you called little one?" the older elf softly inquired.

"L-Legolas," he replied sniffling.

The name sounded familiar but Elrohir could not place where he heard it before. Elrohir wondered whose elfling this was. Elflings were quite rare these days. Of all places elflings could reside he did not expect to come across one in the military fortress of Mirkwood's palace. Given that Legolas was found in a private reading room, he assumed that Legolas belonged some high official elf in King Thranduil's court.

"Can you tell me why you are so upset Legolas?" Elrohir asked, brushing hair away from Legolas' face.

"I was drawing a picture for Ada when th-there w-was a s-sp-spider," Legolas said as a new wave of tears escaped his terror filled eyes. The ordeal of being trapped in the room had left him quite shaken and prone to easy tears.

"A spider?" Elrohir asked in disbelief. Surely one of the spiders he had battled on the way to the palace could not have breached the King's defenses, entering the palace. The security measures set in place were quite overwhelming.

Elrohir brushed Legolas' tears away with his sleeve.

"Do not worry Legolas, I will not let it harm you," Elrohir said, unsure of what else to say to comfort the frightened elfling.

Those words seemed to do the trick as a genuine smile spread across Legolas' face, "Thank you," he said relieved.

Legolas wasn't sure what the identical elves would be like. At first he was almost scared to meet them. He changed his mind deciding he liked Elrohir, he regretted his former feelings of fear. Elrohir was really nice.

His vision caught sight of something at the back of the room. Legolas froze in terror. The spider that attacked him was crawling up the wall. Legolas grabbed Elrohir's arm and pointing in the direction of the tiny black beast.

"That is the spider?" Elrohir asked.

Legolas nodded as more tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

"Okay, stay here while I go remove it."

Elrohir couldn't bring himself to kill a harmless creature. Instead he trapped it in his hands and placed it in the plant sitting in the hallway. Once the spider was gone and Elrohir had returned to the room, Legolas jumped off the table and ran over to him. He threw himself at Elrohir, wrapping his small arms around Elrohir's legs.

"Thank you for saving me," the elfling said smiling brightly.

Elrohir just smiled back in response. The elfling's smile was contagious. As soon as the spider was removed it seemed as though a switch at flipped in the elfling's mind, he went from scared to extremely happy in seconds. Leaving Elrohir slightly puzzled.

Elrohir looked down to see the elfling, who was staring up at him expectantly. His bright blue eyes focused and unblinking. Elrohir confused by this, returned the youngling's gaze. They stood there in silence bright blue eyes meeting soft grey in an unspoken battle. Elrohir blinked.

"I won!" Legolas cried.

"I beg your pardon?" Elrohir asked more confused then before.

"I won the staring contest!" Legolas said his voice filled with excitement. "I never win, but this time I did not blink first and I won!"

"If I had known I participating in such a challenge, the outcome would have been different," Elrohir teased grinning. The elfling's excitement was infectious.

Smiling Legolas stood with his hands twisted behind his back, looking as if he wanted to ask a question, but was afraid to know the answer.

"What is it?" Elrohir asked curious.

"Will you play with me?" Legolas asked looking up at Elrohir, his eyes pleading Elrohir to say yes. "…Please?" he added, remembering his manners.

Elrohir thought about the offer. His brother was healing well, well enough that he did not require someone to sit at his bedside. A brief memory flashed through Elrohir's eyes. Back before things changed in Imladris he had spent most of his free afternoons with elflings, playing with them and teaching them the basics of the art of swordplay. He smiled at the memory realizing that he missed the innocence and energy that came hand in hand with the very young. Elfling's had a radiant spark of life, untainted by the troubles of the world.

Elrohir looked at the tiny elfling. _He must be lonely_, Elrohir thought. _Were there not other elflings around to play with him?_

Legolas looked down defeated. Elrohir was taking a long time to respond. Legolas had learned that when adults took a long time to respond it usually meant they were thinking up a reason not to play with him.

"I understand you do not wish to, I am sorry, " Legolas said.

Elrohir knelt down to Legolas' level.

"What makes you think I do not wish to play with you?" Elrohir questioned.

"You'll play with me?!" Legolas asked, not believing it himself, "Really?"

"Yes," Elrohir confirmed.

"Right now?"

Elrohir nodded.

A huge grin broke out on Legolas' face.

"Nobody ever has time to play with me. Well Ada does, but he is often very busy. Noron will play with me when he is not on patrol, but he goes away for a long time and I hardly ever get to see him," Legolas chirped away excitedly. "Rudiel will take me for walks and some times Laelle will. She used to play with me a lot, but now that I am older I do not need her to watch me all the time. She usually gives me baths at night and helps me get ready in the mornings, and she…"

Legolas was about to say more when Elrohir brought a finger up to the elfling's lips, silencing him.

"I will play with you under one condition," Elrohir said, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"What is it?" Legolas asked, skeptical.

"First we must clean your hands and wipe all that coal from you face."

This elicited a giggle from Legolas as Elrohir ruffled his blond hair.

Now that Legolas finally found someone who was willing to play with him, he was undecided on what game they should play. Elrohir wisely suggested that Legolas give him a tour of the palace, a suggestion to which Legolas happily agreed. Though Elrohir had been to the palace several times before and knew layout quite well, he wished to keep their activities away from his sleeping brother. The longer Elladan slept, the faster he would heal. Elrohir knew from experience that while playing with rambunctious excited elflings things could get rather loud.

Legolas tightly gripped Elrohir's hand as he skipped and bounced down the hallway, practically pulling Elrohir along after him. The pair passed by several groups of working servants, directing curious glances their way. The servants had not been made aware their King was hosting a guest. The maids gossiped between themselves wondering whom this handsome dark haired ellon was accompanying their young prince. By elvish standards Elrohir was very fair, emitting the radiance of his ancestress Lúthien. The maids blushed feverously as Elrohir looked their way.

Elrohir understood that Legolas' father was obviously someone of important status in Mirkwood, judging by the servant's behavior towards the elfling, but he couldn't help to wonder where Legolas' mother was. He silently questioned why the elfling had not mentioned her. Most young elflings rarely strayed far from their mothers. He quickly pushed those thoughts away. It was not his place to ask. Thinking of mothers, his mother still pained him, like dull never subsiding ache in his chest.

On the tour they ran into Galion, the King's butler, carrying a giant flask of wine in preparation for the evening festivities. Galion smiled upon seeing the young prince. He had not seen Legolas looks so happy in a very long time.

"Good evening young one, how do you fare?" Galion said, bowing respectfully.

"Hi Galion, I am well" Legolas chimed.

"Who is your friend?" Galion asked, eyeing Elrohir.

Legolas smiled at the question. Friend? Elrohir was his friend? The thought had not yet crossed his mind. What constitutes someone as a friend? What point in knowing someone marks the jump from the status of an acquaintance to that of a friend? Elrohir had rescued him from a spider, calmed his crying, was kind and gentle, and then agreed to play with him. Most importantly Legolas felt he could trust him. _I guess that does make Elrohir my friend_, Legolas thought happily.

"My friend…" Legolas tested, the words sounding foreign to him on his own lips. "My friend is Elrohir."

Galion bowed, "My Lord Elrohir, please forgive me, I did not recognize you from earlier."

Elrohir waved the apology away. He did not like such formalities.

"Galion, do you know when Ada will be finished in council? I wish to show him my new… friend."

"Aye my Prince, judging by the stars in the sky and the smell of the feast in the air, the King should be finishing up very soon."

Elrohir blanked. Prince? King? Thranduil had a son? This was definitely shocking news to him.

Legolas thanked Galion, watching him walk away before turning towards his new friend. Legolas frowned seeing the confused expression on Elrohir's face.

"Elrohir, does something ail you?" Legolas shyly asked.

"You are Thranduil's son, Prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas looked down towards the ground.

"Yes, I am," he confirmed.

"Why did you not tell me?" Elrohir softly inquired, more surprised then anything.

Legolas nervously shifted on his feet.

"I do not wish to be treated as a prince," he simply stated. "I just thought that maybe if you didn't know I was a prince you would treat me like I was normal. When other elflings find out I am their Prince, they do not playing with me anymore. Are you angry with me? Will you still be my friend?"

Elrohir's expression softened, "Of course we are still friends. Nothing will ever change that."

Legolas beamed at Elrohir's words, his heart fluttering.

Elrohir knelt before Legolas. With the back of his hand he gently stoked the elflings cheek, "I am not angry with you," he said gently.

"Do not feel you should hide yourself from others. Be proud of who you are," Elrohir said. He spoke those words from his heart, having them been told to him many times before by his mother. Life as a Peredhil was not always an easy one.

Legolas was ecstatic. At his young age making friends had proven to be a challenge for him.

"Hmm, an elfling prince. I guess that makes you a princeling," Elrohir said thoughtfully.

The two of them continued down the hallway, when Legolas suddenly stopped before a pair of large oak doors, a thought had just occurred to him.

"Elrohir?"

"Yes princeling?"

"Will your brother be my friend too?"

Elrohir looked down at the elfling, "Of course he will! You can meet him tomorrow. He should be feeling better by then."

"Thank you! I would very much like that!"

Legolas could not contain his excitement; he was about to say more when the large oak doors opened. A group of high-ranking elves of the kings court, advisors, and patrol captains filed out of the room, followed by their King. Without a word Legolas ran towards his father.

The King seeing his elfling running towards him knelt down and held his arms open. When the elfling reached his grasp the King stood up and spun his child around. Causing Legolas to squeal in delight. Thranduil just stood there for a moment, holding his child closely.

The council had been a stressful one, greatly testing the King's patience. He was relieved it had finally concluded for the day. Upon the sight of Legolas running towards him, all the negativity and ill feelings of the council vanquished from the King's heart filled it instead with the unconditional love he had for his son. It was now time for Thranduil to be a father first and a king second. Legolas loved being in his father's arms and did not care that he was not a tiny elfling anymore.

Elrohir simply smiled at the sight. He remembered when his father very much did the same thing with him and his brother when they were elflings. He felt awkward standing there watching the tender moment between father and son. He was unsure if he should leave or stay, he decided on leaving.

Elrohir was about turn to make his way back to his brother's room when Thranduil noticed him.

"Elrondion, it is a pleasure to see you," Thranduil exclaimed. "I was just about to seek you out."

"Your Majesty how can I be of service?"

"Tell me, how fares your brother?"

"He is better your highness. Your healer says tomorrow he shall be well enough to leave his bed."

"That is great news indeed."

Legolas fidgeted in his father's arms. He was bursting to tell his father all about his afternoon with Elrohir, but knew it was rude to interrupt when adults were speaking.

The Elvenking continued, "I was hoping you would be willing to attend a council tomorrow. I need more information on the orcs you and your brother were tracking."

"Of course your Majesty, I will share all that I know."

Thranduil nodded in approval before finally directing his attention towards his restless son, "What is it ion nin?"

"Ada, can Elrohir join us for the evening meal?"

Thranduil smiled, "Of course he can, I was just about to invite him myself."

Thranduil turned towards Elrohir, "You are always welcome at my table. Will you join us tonight?"

Elrohir took a moment to think about the offer. He and Elladan had isolated themselves from other elves for years, spending their time hunting orcs. It would be nice to dine in the presence of their forest kin. He knew that in Mirkwood a very small minority, if any at all besides the king had knowledge of his mother's flight. Dinning at the Elvenking's table he would not receive the looks of sorrow filled pity he would other wise have gotten back home. The night would be one filled with peace, not despair, warming him with song and dance. The offer was tempting, his heart greatly desired to go, but he knew he could not. Not without Elladan.

"I am sorry, I must decline your gracious offer. My body is starting to feel exhaustion. I fear I require more rest. Mayhap tomorrow evening?" _When my brother is able to join us_, he added to himself.

Elrohir's mention of exhaustion was not a lie. After travelling for many days with little rest, coupled with the stress of Elladan's injury, and then the over exertion of his healing powers, Elrohir was suddenly feeling very worn. A soft bed within the safety of Thranduil's halls was looking very appealing.

Thranduil was not disappointed, only concerned. Elrohir did look quite pale.

"Of course, take all the rest you need. I will send a servant to tend to you."

Elrohir bowed, before turning away. He decided he would go check on his brother before returning to his own chamber.

Legolas tightened his arms around his father's neck, resting his head on his shoulder. Why did the idea of dinning with him and his father make Elrohir look so sad?


	5. Ships and Stones

**Chapter 4 –Ships and Stones**

Elladan slowly blinked his eyes open, awaking from a very deep healing sleep. He felt at ease as though he were lying on a cloud. The unbearable pain in his chest had subsided to mere a dull ache. His mind lay still clouded with a sleep filled haze.

Judging by the amount of sunlight that shone in through the window, Elladan determined that is must be nearing midday. He contently lay there taking in the long forgotten moments of peace. It was a nice change from waking up on the usual damp patch of grass next to the previous evening's smoldering fire.

Elladan startled, suddenly confused. _Where am I? _He glanced around frantically. _Where is Elrohir? _

After a few moments of shear panic the elf calmed remembering they had arrived at Thranduil's halls. Slowly the memories of the previous day filtered their way back into his mind. Elladan let out a loud sigh of relief. Elrohir was safe. That still didn't explain where Elrohir was though.

His sharp ears twitched at sound of a light footfall on stone, someone was nearing the room. _Elrohir?_ Elladan thought, hopeful.

The chamber door opened as a kind faced elf dressed in cream-colored robes entered the room. Elladan stiffened upon seeing the stranger. As of late he wasn't much for conversation and would have preferred to be left alone.

"Lord Elladan, I am delighted to see that you have awakened," the stranger said, kindly smiling.

Elladan could only stare. _Who is this elf? Where is Elrohir?_

Sensing Elladan's confusion the elf continued, "My name is Rudiel. I am Mirkwood's Healer. I have been tending to your injuries since yesterday morning. The king was most concerned, he will be delighted to learn you have awakened."

Elladan groaned placing an arm over his eyes. How could he have forgotten his less than graceful greeting to the ElvenKing? His cheeks reddened in shame at the memory. He wondered what the King must think of him and his lack of composure. It was so unlike him.

Rudiel seeing the flush of color on his patient's cheeks was instantly at Elladan's side. "Are you feeling unwell? Are you in pain?" his voice was laced with deep concern.

"No, just thirsty," Elladan replied his voice barely audible.

"Forgive me," Rudiel said, as Elladan pushed himself up into a sitting position. The healer handed his patient a cup of strong healing potion.

"Drink it slowly my Lord, this will help rehydrate your body and restore nutrients you have lost."

"Thank you," Elladan said. He drank deeply; the foreign tasting fluid relieved his parched throat from its former dryness.

The potion did not taste of anything like ones his father had created. He wondered how many new and different medicines Mirkwood had that his father was unaware of. He made a mental note to remember to ask Rudiel about them later at a more suitable time.

"Could you tell me Master Healer, where is my brother? Is he not uninjured? I am surprised he is astray," Elladan admitted.

"Lord Elrohir is currently attending a council meeting with his Majesty King Thranduil. I suspect he will not be released until very late in the afternoon. The King's councils tend to run rather long. Though I would not say he is uninjured, he as been exhausted as of late."

Elladan now conscious of his lack of injury and pain felt his chest. It was tender to the touch but nearly healed. Elladan silently cursed to himself. Elrohir had used his powers to heal him. Elladan knew his brother meant well but hated to see Elrohir weakened in the process. Elrohir's ability wasn't powerful enough to safely heal large injuries.

"Is he alright?" Elladan asked, concerned for his brother.

"He will be, I gave him a potion to restore his energy and he will be sitting most of the afternoon."

Elladan nodded, satisfied. "My thanks," he said.

"Will you allow me to change your bandages?" Rudiel asked.

Elladan nodded. Rudiel worked expertly and carefully. His hands were precise and gentle, like his father's, causing Elladan no pain.

"Amazing," Rudiel muttered to himself. "It is nearly completely healed."

Elladan frowned at the comment. He was even more concerned for Elrohir now. Everything Elladan did was for his brother, to protect his brother. It would be unbearable if he were to lose Elrohir. Elrohir was the only anchor holding him into reality, his lifeline. Elrohir was his light, without him Elladan would succumb to the darkness that was constantly tugging at him, becoming forever lost within its bitter grasp.

Elladan's love for and desire to protect his brother was the very reason why he blocked the connection the twins shared through their bond. Elladan could tell Elrohir was starting to heal, very slowly starting to come to terms with their mother. Elladan did not have the power to control what emotions, thoughts or feelings Elrohir would receive. He would not place his emotional turmoil on his brother's healing shoulders. He could not hurt his brother like that. Elladan knew that if he were to open the link, he would only cause Elrohir to suffer the pain of losing their mother all over again, for it still lay fresh in his heart. No, it was simply better if their bond remained closed. Elladan would bare the burden of his pain alone.

While Rudiel worked, Elladan's sight caught a brief flash of blonde hair before it disappeared behind the doorframe. He looked again to see a pair of bright blue eyes peak out at him, before they too disappeared.

"You do not require bandages," Rudiel said. "I will send for a servant to bring you a light meal. You must try to eat something."

"Thank you," Elladan managed to say, still distracted by the brief flash of those bright blue eyes. They were filled with such light. Did he imagine them?

Elladan sighed once Rudiel had left closing the door behind him. He had no desire to leave this room, not until Elrohir came back for him. Slowly he managed to pull himself out of bed. He sat at the table located against the large window of his room, staring hopelessly into the forest below him. He closed his eyes listening to the sounds around him. The sound light footsteps pattering back and forth just outside his closed door caught his attention.

* * *

Legolas nervously paced the hallway in front of Elladan's room, clutching his sketchbook tightly to his chest. He had been on his way to seek out a new location where he could finish his drawing, having no desire to return to the spider room. He had been walking down the hallway when he had heard whispered sounds coming from Elrohir's brother's room, thus exciting him. Elrohir had told Legolas all about his brother and Legolas desperately wanted to meet the elf for himself.

Legolas had noticed the door hadn't been completely closed and curiously peaked in. He found himself unexpectantly met with Elladan's intense gaze. So much sorrow lay trapped beneath his grey eyes. It sent chills down Legolas' spine and a wave of familiar sorrow to his heart. Legolas had seen that look before, it brought forth memories of long past sadness. Legolas had never wanted to see that look within another's eyes again.

Now the elfling pondered his next options. He really wanted to meet Elladan but now found himself uncharacteristically shy. Would Elladan be angry with him for peeking into his room? Legolas was told by his father and had promised his father he would not bother their guests. Legolas feared he did just that. What if Elladan did not like him? What if Elrohir had lied to him? What if Elladan was actually really mean, not kind and caring as he was described? Loosing confidence Legolas continued pacing the hallway, unsure of what to do.

He was startled and jumped when the door to the room suddenly opened, finding himself face to face with Elladan. Legolas nervously took a step back hugging his sketchbook with an iron grip to his chest. He sought to look at the white marble floor as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

"Why don't you come in Thranduilion before you ware a hole in the floor?" Elladan asked. There was a small trace of humor in his voice. The deep sadness of his gaze had lessened slightly by the smile in his expression. Though the smile did not completely reach his eyes.

Legolas stood there staring at Elladan in a state of shock. It was uncanny; he looked exactly liked Elrohir, except for the look in his eyes. Though Elladan didn't seem very angry Legolas still found himself too shy to move.

"H-how d-do you know I am Th-Thranduilion?" Legolas managed stammer. Legolas saw Elrohir this morning before council and learned that Elladan had not yet awakened. How could Elladan know his identity?

"Your eyes and hair resemble that of your father," Elladan simply replied.

When Legolas said nothing Elladan added, "Mirkwood is not known to have many elflings, especially elflings residing in the military fortress that the palace is. I was an advisor to my father. We had received notice upon your birth. I suspect you would be around the size you are now."

Legolas accepted that answer, looking up at Elladan in a state awe at his reasoning. _Elladan must be very smart_, he thought. Satisfied with the explanation Legolas said, "It took Ada's butler to call me prince before Elrohir had realized who I was."

Elladan smiled, "Elrohir does not always pay close attention to detail. Though his heart means well."

Legolas eased his grip on his sketchbook. He decided he liked Elladan.

"Now would you care to come in?" Elladan asked. Elladan had decided he did not wish to be alone. Left alone, his thoughts would drift towards an unbearable state of melancholy. If his brother could not be with him then the comforting innocence of an elfling would be the next best thing. Like his brother Elladan always enjoyed elflings, though he did not spend as much time with them as Elrohir had. Judging by Legolas' expression he could tell the elfling did not wish to be alone either.

"I will not be disturbing you?" Legolas responded unsure.

Elladan opened the door wider allowing the elfling entry into the room, "You are a welcome disruption elfling."

Legolas hesitantly stepped into the room and nervously looked around, taking in the surroundings. The room looked as though it had been unused, but that couldn't be possible, he knew Elladan had been sleeping here for the last day and a half. The bed was neatly made and not an object was out of place. Legolas thought it strange, he knew for a fact no maids had past him in the corridor.

A loud knocking came from the door causing Legolas to jump and drop his sketchbook in shock. His tiny hands sought the comfort of the pendant that lay around his neck.

"Enter," Elladan commanded in a cool voice, displeased that the knock had frightened the elfling. Why was Legolas so skittish?

An elleth entered the chamber carrying a tray of food.

"My Lord, I am sorry to bother you, I was told by Master Rudiel to bring you something to eat."

"Thank you, just set it on the table," Elladan said.

When the elleth left room, Elladan knelt before Legolas. His expression was of kindness as he picked up Legolas' sketchbook, placing within the elfling's trembling hands.

"Are you alright My Prince? Elladan asked, concerned. Why was the elfling so nervous?

Legolas nodded in reply as Elladan noticed the emerald leaf-shaped stone hanging delicately from Legolas' neck.

Legolas saw the direction of Elladan's eyes and replied, "It was my Nana's. Ada chose me to be its keeper after she left. It was Nana's favorite jewel. Ada said I had to keep it safe."

Sorrow weighed down heavy on Elladan's heart. One so young should not have to suffer the loss of their mother.

"My mother had a pendant too," Elladan confided. "A white gem like star that lay upon her, hanging from a silver chain."

"What happened to it?"

"It was taken from her when she was hurt by orcs," Elladan said bitterly. He did not know what had possessed him to tell the elfling this.

"Your Nana was hurt? Is she okay?" Legolas asked concerned.

"She is healing and went off to a far away land," Elladan softly replied.

Legolas leaned in to hug Elladan. Now he understood why Elladan looked so sad. His mother was gone too. Elladan's eyes were just like his father's after his mother left, filled with pain and despair. Tear's welled in Legolas' eyes.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you," Elladan said sadly.

Legolas shook his head, "It is not your fault. Is that why you were hurt? You were trying to get your Nana's jewel back?"

Elladan nodded, he was impressed with Legolas' perceptiveness, "Yes, that is why my brother and I are so far away from home. We are searching for the ones that hurt her." _Along with destroying any others we come across along the way_, he added silently to himself. Elladan had never hated anything more then he hated orcs. He would never stop until he found the orcs responsible. He knew they were still out there.

"How are your injuries?" the elfling asked.

"The are much better, see," Elladan, said as he showed Legolas his healing chest. Legolas' eyes widened. Only yesterday there had been large scary looking gashes, now they appeared to be barely scratches. Was Elladan magical?

"Will you join me?" Elladan asked, tilting his head towards to table, changing the subject.

Legolas nodded.

The pair sat across from each other at the table. Elladan uncovered his meal to find a warm broth and two slices of bread. He offered Legolas a piece. The elfling gratefully accepted, eating feverously as crumbs fell unnoticed by him onto the front of his tunic. Elladan relinquished a small smile at the sight as his took small nibbles of his own piece.

He watched curiously as Legolas opened the book he had been carrying. He smiled when he saw it was a sketchbook. Legolas flipped through the pages until he came to his most current project, and stared adding to the piece. He watched, as Legolas would draw a couple of lines or shade something in, only to erase what he had done, seemingly frustrated.

Legolas looked up to see Elladan watching him. The elfling noticed that only half of Elladan's bread was eaten, while his broth remained untouched.

"Are you not hungry?" Legolas questioned.

"In my current state eating makes me feel a bit nauseous," Elladan replied.

Legolas, not understanding the meaning behind those words suggested, "If you were to dip your bread into the broth it may taste better."

Elladan simply just smiled over at the elfling, he knew if that if he were to eat another bite he would not be able to keep it down. Forsaking food, he just sat there, settling for sipping on his glass of water.

"Legolas, what are you trying to sketch?" Elladan asked, after watching the elfling draw and erase a couple more lines.

"My Ada, but I cannot get his face right."

"May I see?"

Legolas nodded as he nervously handed the sketchbook to Elladan. He did not show his sketches to very many elves, for only his father took any interest in them. Elladan gently took the sketchbook within in grasp, as though it were a fragile piece of glass. He struggled to find a resemblance between the elfling's sketch and the great King Thranduil. The figure resembled that of a heavily distorted elf. Though it was obvious it was a child's drawing, he could tell Legolas had some raw unrefined talent. Elladan glanced over at Legolas and saw the elfling's eyes were wide and sparkling, waiting for him to say something, anything about the drawing.

"I can see you've worked quite hard on this," Elladan diplomatically responded. That seemed to be the right answer, as Legolas' smile grew. "I used to sketch a bit back home, I could give you some pointers if you'd like," Elladan suggested.

Legolas brightened at the offer, "Really? I would very much like that!"

"Come over here then," he requested.

Legolas got up out of his chair and stood before Elladan. Elladan reached down to lift the elfling onto his lap. Legolas, not expecting to be lifted, squealed in delight.

Elladan was curious about the elflings other drawings. Legolas proudly showed them to him. Together the pair flipped through Legolas' sketchbook. They turned through pages of oddly drawn trees, birds, deer, and other forest creatures, some of the sketches were in color, others were shadings. Elladan mused at the elfling's drawings, the creations of a child's mind.

He stiffened, when they stopped at a drawing of what appeared to be a large ship, in a blue background. Elladan felt his blood run cold. What new form of torment was this, why would the elfling have a picture of a ship? It was out of place amongst the birds and the forest. Of all the things to be seen in the dark forest of Mirkwood, a ship was not amongst one of them, even as a child's illustration.

"What is this a drawing of Legolas? It is quite different from your others," Elladan settled for asking, after regaining some form of composure.

"That is a ship. Mithrandir makes them with his pipe weed," Legolas proudly stated. "I drew it for Mithrandir. I am going to give to him when he visits again."

Elladan sighed in relief.

"Ahh and the blue background is the sky?" Elladan inquired, hopeful.

"No it's the sea, I have never seen the sea before, but Mithrandir says on a cloudless day it is blue like the sky." Elladan's heart sank.

"Mithrandir is right," Elladan said sorrowfully.

"You've been there before?" Legolas asked in awe.

Elladan chose not to respond, instead flipping to a fresh page.

"Why don't we draw the forest together?" Elladan suggested, changing to subject. " I can teach you my technique for shading that may aid you with your drawing of your father."

The two sat there together in a peaceful silence as they began to outline the forest. Every once in a while Elladan would give Legolas pointers, "Do not grip the coal so hard tithen pen, you are not holding a sword. Lightly now," he would say.

Legolas decided that Elladan did more than just "sketch a bit" back home. Elladan had more than just a little skill. He was a genius. The coal was not only an extension of his hand, but his mind. Legolas absorbed every bit of advice Elladan had given him. Hoping to be able to sketch like him one day.

The two sat there like that for the rest of the afternoon. Legolas atop of Elladan's lap, both with a piece of coal in their hands. With Legolas softly humming, as they sketched together, slowly weaving the threads of their friendship. Elladan found it oddly soothing.

Legolas was ecstatic, humming to himself. For two days in a row now he had someone to play with. An elf had allotted to spend time with him, time that did not consist of history, geography or language lessons. Time spent on things Legolas wanted to do, not what was expected of him.

Elladan was content with just spending time with the elfling. His bright presence temporarily pulled him away from his dark thoughts, as he smiled his first genuine smile in a long time. _It will be a shame to leave Mirkwood,_ Elladan thought, _but once I am fully healed and Elrohir is rested, we must depart and continue our orc hunt. _

It was later in the afternoon when Elladan's door opened to reveal both Elrohir and Thranduil. Elrohir instantly rushed to his brother's side, placing a comforting hand on Elladan's shoulder, while Thranduil remained at the door.

"Ada!" Legolas exclaimed in excitement. "Look me and Elladan are drawing together! He is teaching me!"

"Its 'Elladan and I', tithen Las," Thranduil corrected. "How are you feeling Elladan?" he proceeded to ask.

"I am well your majesty, thank you."

"It pleases me greatly to hear that. Rudiel had informed us that you awakened. I wished to confirm for myself," Thranduil said before turning towards Legolas. "Though I was not expecting to find Legolas here. Tithen Las, council has finished early today, I thought we could spend the time together before the evening meal."

Legolas beamed, "Really Ada?!" It wasn't very often that one of the King's councils would end early. Legolas looked up towards Elladan, "Elladan could we draw together again sometime?"

"Of course," Elladan replied as the elfling gathered his things and slid off his lap.

Thranduil took the oversized sketchbook out of his son's small arms, clasping Legolas' small hand with his. They were about to leave he room when Legolas turned back towards the brothers.

"Are you going to join us for the evening meal tonight?" he asked.

It was Elrohir who responded this time, "Of course we are!"

Elrohir waited for the father and son to leave the room, closing the door behind them, before engulfing his brother into a tight hug. Elrohir found it difficult to concentrate on proceedings discussed during the council, thinking only of Elladan. Thranduil sensing something amiss allotted to end the council early. He knew Elrohir was exhausted and worried deeply about for his brother.

"Brother are you sure you are well?" Elrohir asked.

"Aye, now that you are here, I am. Elrohir, you as so pale," Elladan commented, stroking his brother's cheek.

"I am fine," Elrohir replied. "Come dear brother, I will show you to Thranduil's bathing chambers. I know your chest still ails you. I shall wash and braid your hair for you. We must look our best for tonight's dinner with the Mirkwood Royalty."

"Aye, it had been far to many moons since we last dinned with elves. I fear we may be slowly turning human."

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N:** Just to clear any confusion, the stone Elladan was referring to is not the Elfstone/Elesser. I am also aware the Peredhil cannot ' slowly turn' human, it's a choice they have to make.

**Thank you everyone for your Reviews, Favourites, and Follows! You guys are awesome! I'm glad you're enjoying reading this story, as much as I enjoy writing it. :) **

Hey everyone! The semester is starting up again. I will try to post a new chapter at least once a week. School is my first priority, but studying can get awfully boring and my mind does tend to wander.

**The next chapter: Chapter 5 - Finding Smiles**


	6. Finding Smiles

**Chapter 5 – Finding Smiles **

The Elvenking's dinning hall was a large room of spacious grandeur. It was a gathering place where off duty patrol units could feast, relax and partake in merrymaking during the late hours of the evening. It was an informal setting with various different tables scattered around a large dance floor of white marble. Pillars were carved in the likeness of trees and tapestries of the former Greenwood the Great hung about the walls. The light of forest was brought indoors where warriors could relax in safety, not having to worry about the threats that lay outside, a small reprieve from the ongoing battle of darkness that constantly lay over the forest.

The largest and most honored of tables was the Elvenking's table. By the King's bidding with the turn of the moon, elves of different patrol units and their families where honored with an invitation to dine with their King. Thranduil was a kindly King who often sought out and enjoyed the company of his Silvan subjects. He cared for each and every one of his people, dedicating his life to protecting the forest they all cherished. His people in return loved and respected their Sindar King, who was looked upon for his great wisdom and light during these times of great darkness.

The Elvenking sat upon his place at the head of the table, adorning a crown of mithril, wound in white branches of red winterberries in celebration of the coming winter season. His hair smooth like spun silk glowed as if it were the very sun.

His beloved son, a spitting image of himself sat to his right. On the elfling's other side, sat Thranduil's beloved nephew, Noron, one of his fiercest and strongest warriors. The rest of the table was filled with various high ranking officials and their families. Only two seats remained empty, awaiting their guest's.

Thranduil looked over at his elfling, smiling inwardly. Legolas was a picture of apprehension and pure excitement, a ball of barely contained energy. The elfling could not sit still, waiting impatiently for the arrival of their two guests.

Thranduil would have invited the son's of Elrond to his realm long ago, had he known the effect they would have had on his young son. It was only their second day here and Legolas had taken quite a liking to them. The Elvenking sat there watching his son, who now took to restlessly twirling the tassels of the tablecloth between his tiny fingers in eager anticipation.

"Legolas ion nin, have patience. Our guests will arrive shortly," said Thranduil, amused by the elfling's excited behavior.

As if on cue Elladan and Elrohir entered the dinning hall. All the elves at the table were instantly silenced, their conversations coming to an abrupt halt. All eyes were upon the son's of Elrond as they gracefully made their way across the giant hall towards the Elvenking. An air of fierce nobility followed their steps. Legolas' breath caught in his chest. They were a magnificent sight to behold. Their dark hair had been thoroughly cleaned and intricately braided. They both wore similar robes of dark blues and deep violets. Elladan and Elrohir were identical in everyway. Their skin was fair, white like the snow, a stark contrast to their dark eyes and hair.

"Welcome Lords Elladan and Elrohir, please have a seat in the place of honor," Thranduil said, gesturing towards the two empty chairs at this left.

Their movements mirrored each other as they took their seats. Legolas found himself speechless. Elrohir and Elladan looked exactly the same. He thought maybe if they were together he could find differences in their appearance. Legolas knew they were two completely different elves, having spent a substantial amount of time with each of them individually, but together, he could not pick out differences in their appearance. How was this possible? How could two completely different elves look exactly the same?

The sweet melody of a harp fed their ears, as the evening meal was served. Thranduil and Noron partook in small talk with the twins while Legolas just sat there quietly and unintentionally staring at Elladan and Elrohir. The elfling was unsuccessfully trying to find differences in their appearance that lay other than in their attire.

The atmosphere of the dinning hall was joyous. Though their sorrows lay heavily upon them, their spirits felt somehow lighter. Elrohir ate his meal with great zealous, while Elladan took to picking at the food on his plate. The twins both found dinning with King Thranduil to be refreshing, having spent the past couple years having to hunt for their meals in the wild. To both their pleasure and relief no one had mentioned their mother. In fact, after they took their seats most of the elves at the table paid little if any attention to them at all.

Legolas was so distracted by their presence that he had not touched his food. His mind was filled with endless questions that he was all but too shy to ask. He repeatedly kept asking himself, _why do they look the same?_ Then it hit him, a thought. He had come up with the only plausible explanation as to why Elladan and Elrohir looked the exact same, but were completely different. It must be because-

"Ion non, your food will grow cold if you do not start eating," Thranduil said, interrupting Legolas' thoughts. Thranduil had noticed Legolas' odd behavior and wondered what could have brought on the change. The elfling had gone from excited to reserved within seconds, almost as if he were deep in thought.

Legolas decided he needed his thoughts confirmed. Unintentionally ignoring his Father, looking towards both Elladan and Elrohir, his eyes inquisitive and serious, Legolas asked, perhaps a little bit to loudly, "Are you both magic?"

The question caught everyone at the table off guard, as conversation was once again brought to a halt. Noron almost choked on his food as he attempted to smother a laugh, receiving a glare from his uncle. Thranduil knew better then to laugh openly at his son, his face betrayed no hint of his amusement. Small smiles crept onto Elladan and Elrohir's faces but they too were able to contain their mirth. The rest of the table openly giggled at the elfling's endearing question.

Legolas saw the smiles on everyone's face and heard their laughter. He cast his eyes down in embarrassment. He suddenly felt very foolish. He should have just kept quiet. Legolas felt humiliated, everyone was laughing at him. Maybe it was the wrong thing to ask? His bottom lip started to tremble. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hide in his father's arms.

The Elvenking, annoyed by everyone's insensitivity towards his son signaled for them all to continue on with their individual conversations and pay the elfling no more attention. Thranduil saw the expression on Legolas' face. He knew that look. Legolas was a very sensitive elfling. Thranduil knew that if he did not do something soon, there would be tears and lots of them. He placed a comforting hand on Legolas' shoulder.

"Ion nin, I thought that was a very interesting question," Thranduil said softly, saving the day.

"Really?" Legolas asked, looking at his father. His eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Yes, I myself was wondering the same thing. Though I would not have phrased it as so," Thranduil replied as he, with one graceful movement swept Legolas out of his chair and placed the child onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around Legolas' trembling body in an attempt to further calm him.

Elladan caught on to Thranduil's attempts at consoling the elfling. "Yes, Legolas. That was a very good question and one we have never been asked before," he confirmed. Thranduil caught his eye, silently thanking him for his help.

"Tithen Las, what has lead you to believe that Elladan and Elrohir posses magic?" Thranduil inquired. He was genuinely curious as to how this question arose in Legolas' mind. Was this what his elfling was thinking of the whole time?

Regaining back some his lost confidence from all the encouragement, Legolas replied, " Because Elrohir and Elladan look exactly the same but are they different, Elladan's injuries healed really fast, and the first time I saw them Elrohir felt Elladan's pain. I know he did, I saw it. It has to be magic Ada."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow to this, looking very much like Elrond at the moment. He was not aware Legolas had been in Thranduil's receiving chamber. He did not recall seeing an elfling in there. Though he was quite distracted at the time.

"You are very perceptive," Elladan complimented. At those words Legolas' teary eyes dried and a small smile formed on his lips.

"We look the same because we were born from the same mother at the exact same time," Elrohir explained. Legolas was astounded by this news. It was rare for two elflings to be born in the same birth year, and unheard of by the same mother at the same time. It was something he never before considered possible.

"So you're not magical then?" Legolas asked, slightly disappointed. "You cannot make fire dance in the sky like Mithrandir can?" he added. Legolas loved Mithrandir's fireworks and had really hoped to see some of them again.

"I fear Mithrandir has a knack for teasing Legolas. Not one I much approve of," Thranduil said.

"That is where your question is interesting, Legolas," Elladan said. " Do you know the story of Thingol and Melian?"

"Ada tells me of it all the time! It is one of my favorites. The Teleri who fell in love with a Maia," Legolas exclaimed excitedly. Legolas loved that story, and Thranduil loved telling it to his son. Though Thingol had long ago past to the Halls of Mandos, in the hearts of all Sindar Elves he was still their King.

"We are related to Melian through a line of ancestors. I guess you could say she is our great-great-great-grandmother on our Father's side," Elladan said, as he saw Legolas' eyes widen.

"And because we are related to Melian, we have been gifted with some abilities, though I would not call them magical," Elrohir continued. *

Legolas was in a state of awe at hearing this news. _So they do have magical powers,_ he thought to himself, and curiously asked, "What kinds of abilities do you have?"

"Well we both have the ability to heal others and the gift of foresight. My ability to heal others is stronger than Elrohir's, but Elrohir's gift of foresight is greater than mine. Our father is great than us in both," Elladan responded. Legolas' eyes sparkled in amazement.

Elladan and Elrohir were even more amazing than he first thought. Satisfied with their answer, Legolas started picking at and eating food from his father's plate, an action to which Thranduil did not protest. At least his son was eating.

Once the evening meal was finished, their wine goblets were refilled and desert was served. Minstrels broke out in song as elves rushed towards the dance floor. Many at Thranduil's table chose to stay seated, happy with their company. Noron and a couple other patrol captains swarmed around Elladan and Elrohir, eagerly conversing with the twins. It was not often elves, let alone warriors from other realms came to visit. They busy were making arraignments for a sparing competition in the morning.

Legolas listened to his cousin's conversation. He put his hands to his mouth to stifle a laugh when he heard Noron address Elrohir as Elladan. Noron had not only done so once, but had mixed them up throughout the entire evening. In fact Legolas noticed that every elf that had talked with Elladan and Elrohir had gotten their names confused, even his Father! Legolas tried his best to be polite but could not hold back his laughter anymore. The elfling's small body shook with laughter as the musical noise filled the air, causing the conversation to halt as everyone's eyes rested upon him.

Thranduil who had been following the conversation was confused by his son's outburst. He did not hear anything that an elfling would find particularly amusing. In fact, arrangements for casual sparing matches among his warriors was of little interest to Thranduil, and a topic of conversation he knew his son knew nothing about.

"Ion nin, though I love to hear your laughter, I do not understand what is so amusing."

Everyone's eyes were on Legolas, staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

Noron looking at Elrohir asked, "Elladan, what do you think could be the cause of Legolas' laughter?" This only caused Legolas to laugh harder.

The twins shared a look before two small smiles crept onto their faces.

"Incredible," Elrohir spoke.

"I am sorry, but could someone please tell me what is going on?" Noron asked. He loved jokes just like the next elf, but not ones he wasn't privy to.

"You have been addressing me as Elladan all evening, I am Elrohir," Elrohir said. "It seems our young prince here, was the only one to notice."

"Why did you not correct me?" Noron asked, flustered.

"We are quite used to it," Elrohir answered.

"More importantly, Legolas, you are able to tell us apart?" Elladan asked the elfling.

"Yes," Legolas confirmed, surprising everyone at the table.

"That truly in incredible. Legolas, you are special indeed. Very, very few elves are able to tell us apart," said Elrohir. Legolas beamed at the praise.

"How are you able to do so?" asked Elladan. How could an elfling do what elves, thousands of years in age, could not?

"Yes, I would like to know that too," added Noron. "They are exactly the same."

"No, they are not exactly the same Noron," Legolas countered, sounding offended.

Noron's statement confused Legolas. How could he think Elrohir and Elladan were exactly the same? Yes they looked the same, but the two elves were very different. Legolas mused, if they were colors Elrohir would be red and Elladan would be blue. When Legolas thought of red he thought of warmth, strength, and courage. All things he had seen in Elrohir. The color blue reminded Legolas of intelligence, loyalty, calmness, and sadly enough, sorrow, all things he had seen in Elladan. Elladan and Elrohir looked the same, but on a deeper more personal level they were really quite different.

All eyes were on Legolas, still awaiting his explanation. Legolas thought for a second then shrugged, "They just feel different."

"They feel different?" Noron repeated, skeptical.

"Yes," Legolas said. "They are like trees. From a distance all the trees look the same, but when you go up close, and sit in their branches, you learn that their voices are different, you can tell them apart. That's like with Elladan and Elrohir, they are like trees."

Thranduil smiled proudly at Legolas. For one so young Legolas had moments of brilliant wisdom well beyond his years. Legolas would grow up to be a fine elf he mused.

Elladan and Elrohir weren't sure how they felt about being compared to trees, Legolas' logic made sense, so they took it as a complement, smiling. Legolas loved to see their smiles. They had such a deep sad look in their eyes, burdening their hearts, haunting their shadows. Legolas wished to see them smile more. He vowed to do what ever he could to make them smile. He wanted to find their smiles. Everyone deserves happiness, especially those who have endured great pain.

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N:** *_I try to keep things as canon as possible while writing. I don't think Tolkien ever mentioned that Elladan and Elrohir had any abilities (healing and foresight). I gave them these 'powers' and am using their ancestry of Melian to justify my actions._

I'm going to write a couple more chapters of everyone bonding and stuff, I think its important I set a strong foundation for Legolas' friendships with Elrohir and Elladan, before the real action occurs and sad things happen.

**Thank you everyone for your reviews, favorites, and follows! You are all beautiful people!**

**The next chapter: Chapter 6 - Worse than a Nightmare**


	7. Worse than a Nightmare

**Chapter 6 – Worse than a Nightmare**

_"It's all my fault, I'm so sorry brother. It's my fault," he said, leaning over his brother's prone lifeless body. His lips were blue, and he was cold to the touch, as if he were ice. His breathing was so shallow, barely noticeable. "Please come back to me. I need you. I cannot live without you," he choked through sobs. _

_Endless tears ran down his cheeks. There was an unbearable sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He felt numb. His brain was foggy and heavy in grief. He couldn't contain it all; it tore at his insides. It was too much. He could not comprehend his surroundings, but it didn't matter where he was anymore. Wherever his brother went, he would soon follow. His attention lay focused on his brother's pale lifeless face. He felt as though he couldn't breath, couldn't move. He was trapped – suffocating. He felt blood rushing to his ears. Dizzy, he was dizzy. Why was this happening? He felt nothing. Empty. _

_He wrapped his arms tightly himself and drew his knees up to his chest. He could find no comfort. There was no more light left in this world. It was hopeless. The shadows were swallowing him whole, finally claiming their long awaited prize. His brother was fading and it was his fault, his entire fault. He pushed his brother over the edge. He did this to him. _

"NOO," Elrohir awoke with a scream, breathing hard, gasping for air. His brow was creased with sweat, his face damp with tears. His heart was beating fast, thumping wildly against his chest.

Elladan, where was Elladan? He couldn't feel their bond. He couldn't tell where he was. Elladan wasn't gone, he couldn't be.

His sheets were wrapped tightly around him, holding him, binding him to his bed; to his fate. Elrohir thrashed violently in attempts to get loose, falling to the cold stone floor. He hit it hard with _thump_, before finally managing to untangle himself from his ruthless bindings.

He had to find Elladan. He needed Elladan.

Managing to catch his breath, Elrohir pushed himself upwards. Disoriented and confused he stumbled towards the chamber door, only to trip over a boot. Abashed, he was unable to break his fall, once again finding himself lying on the cold stone floor. He lay there stunned and helpless, cold and shaking. His mind still trapped in its former torment. His arms felt so heavy, he felt so weak. A deep agony ripped through him. It was so real… it felt so real. Why couldn't he reach Elladan? _So far away… _

"Elladan," he called out weakly. "Please Elladan, don't leave me." He lay there, alone and sobbing.

Then he saw it, a small stream of light filtering into the room, engulfing him in its brightness.

"It is alright brother. I am here," a voice called out, warm and soothing. "I shall never leave you."

_Elladan_

Elladan grasped his brother's arm, pulling him upright. Carefully, he helped his grief-stricken brother to his feet and slowly guided him to the edge of the bed where they both sat. Elladan felt Elrohir lean in to him, as he wrapped a comforting arm around him, pulling him closer. Elladan soothingly rubbed his back, as Elrohir rested his head on his shoulder.

They sat like that taking comfort in each other's presence, until Elladan judged his brother had calmed down enough to talk.

"Elrohir, what ails you brother? Did you have a nightmare?" he asked, brushing strands of dark hair away from his brother's face.

"No. It was no nightmare. It was worse than a nightmare, a _vision_," Elrohir replied as tears silently made their way down his cheeks, dampening Elladan's shoulder.

"What was your vision about?" Elladan asked. He was almost afraid to know. He had never seen Elrohir so forlorn after a vision before.

"I- I am so sorry brother," Elrohir choked through sobs, shivering.

Elladan soothingly rubbed his back, "Shhh, brother. You need not apologize. You have done nothing wrong."

"But I will. My vision... You were fading a-and I was the cause of it. Y-you k-know what F-Father says about visions. The stronger they appear, the more likely they will c-come to p-pass," Elrohir said as he buried his face into his brother's shoulder, shaking with sobs.

"Do you know what else father says about visions? Not everything is certain. They may still not come to pass. The future is not written brother. We make it. Everyday with every action the once predetermined future changes. Your vision is one of an infinite amount of possibilities," Elladan countered.

_But it is still a possibility_.

"Elrohir, look at me," Elladan said. He gently lifted his ailing brothers chin, stroking his cheek with his thumb. Their eyes met, "I will not fade. If I ever did, the only way you could possibly be the cause of it, is if you were already gone. I will never leave you." _I need you. _

"But, I cannot feel you through our bond. I feel so empty," Elrohir stammered.

"I am sorry," Elladan said, heavy hearted. If Elrohir's vision had confirmed anything, it was that Elladan could never reconnect their bond. Seeing his brother in this state was too painful. No, he could not bear to see his brother is such anguish.

Elrohir wanted to believe Elladan's words, with all his heart he did. But his Father had told him that the stronger the vision the more likely it was to occur, and not only that, but the closer it was to occurring. The vision was so strong, so vibrant. He could feel the very emotions, as if they were happening to him, right then and there. It pained him. Elladan would fade, and soon, if he couldn't find a way to stop it.

"Brother, I think it may be best if we stay in Mirkwood for awhile. Thranduil will not mind, he offered," Elrohir whispered through tears. If he could convince his brother to stay, maybe he could buy time, prevent his brother from fading, and find the catalyst, the source of ending all their anguish, stopping his brother from fading.

"You know I cannot agree to this Elrohir. The orcs are still out there. We must find them," Elladan said, unable to hide the shock from his voice.

"I am not suggesting we give up on our hunt. I am merely saying we take break. Please brother. I need this, we need this," _you need this, _Elrohir pleaded.

Elladan saw the look in his brother's eyes. He so badly wanted to find those orcs. He needed his revenge. He could not stop. He would not stop. Elladan sighed.

"Only for a short while," he relented. "We are out of supplies anyways."

"Thank you brother," Elrohir said in relief. Mirkwood seemed almost brighter. He never expected to find hope trapped within the shadows of the Dark Forest.

"Move over," Elladan gestured at the bed. "I will stay here with you tonight dear brother, and awaken you if visions torment you again." _I do not want to be alone. _

* * *

A pair of bright blue eyes hidden beneath a blanket of golden hair watched the exchange between the two brothers. The door had been left ajar, leaving just enough space to peak into the room without being noticed. The owner of the eyes clutched the leaf pendant around his neck. _When the memory of fear and darkness trouble you, this bring you aid, _he remembered the words spoken to him, when the pendant was given to him.

The elfling smiled to himself, _Elrohir and Elladan are staying!_ Now he had time to find their smiles.

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N: **So what did you think? The next chapter is going to be way longer, I promise!

**Thank you everyone for your reviews, favourites, and follows!**


	8. Pseudo Heroes

**Chapter 7 – Pseudo Heroes **

Legolas deeply inhaled then exhaled the cool morning air. The sun had only just rise and slowly began to warm the shaded forest. A blanket of cool mist covered the forest floor. Legolas wished to climb his favorite trees and whisper to them, before the winter air become too cold for his fingers, and the tree's voices grew too silent to hear.

Legolas anxiously walked through his father's gardens, making sure to stomp on any particularly crunchy leaf that crossed his path. So far it had been a good morning. His father had come to wake him up, instead of his nanny Lealle. Together they ate a private breakfast on this father's balcony, where he was told that he didn't have any lessons today! When Legolas had asked if he could play with Elladan and Elrohir, his father said he would not mind. Legolas was really excited. He rarely had anyone to play with. Maybe they could take him on a walk, or play tree tag with him. He had seen other elflings play tree tag and had wished to try the game out for himself.

Legolas made his way under a thick cluster of shady leaf barren trees. Legolas loved the trees. He enjoyed their company better then he enjoyed the company of other elflings. Whenever Legolas played with elflings they were either to intimidated by his status of prince and shied away from him, or they were overly nice to him, always letting him win games, which Legolas found even worse. He just wished to be treated normally. The other elflings did not understand that he did not mind losing games as long as they were played fairly. Legolas knew that Elrohir and Elladan would play games fairly.

Legolas' only problem was he could not find Elrohir and Elladan. He carefully peaked into their bedrooms and found that they were both empty. He searched the whole palace in hopes of coming across them, but to his disappointment found no sign of them. Dejected, Legolas decided to continue his search outside. The thought of them leaving crossed his mind, but he quickly pushed those worries away. Last night he had heard them say that they would stay, and they wouldn't leave without at least saying goodbye. At least, he hoped with all his heart they wouldn't.

Legolas pulled his cloak tightly around his small frame as he aimlessly wandered through the palace grounds, finding it strangely empty. Normally there were soldiers walking about. Where did everyone go? Where could Elrohir and Elladan have gone? Were they lying when he overheard them say that they would stay? His father had told him that lying was wrong, but then again so was eavesdropping. Legolas let out a loud sigh. He was bored. He had already stomped on all of the very crunchy looking leaves and jumped in two particularly large leaf piles.

Wandering around to the backside of the palace, Legolas heard what sounded like shouts and cheers. They appeared to be coming from the training grounds. Legolas wasn't allowed to go there alone, but he figured that since he heard a lot of noise coming from there, he wouldn't be alone, because that's where everyone was!

Skipping in earnest he made his way down the winding pathway through the trees towards the large clearing. The parameter of the clearing was lined with warriors all watching two elves fiercely clashing swords in the middle. Elves were cheering at the sight, shouting words of encouragement and jest.

Legolas couldn't see who the elves fighting were. Pushing his way through the large cluster of legs, Legolas gasped when he made it to the front. One of his father's patrol captains was fighting Elrohir. There was a look of fire in Elrohir's eyes as the two elves were deep in concentration. Only focusing at the task at hand, paying no attention to their surroundings.

Legolas looked upon the sight in a state of shock. _Why are they fighting each other? What if one of them gets hurt? Elrohir is my friend. They shouldn't be fighting each other. _His father had told him that warriors fought darkness; their job was to protect the forest. So why was this elf fighting Elrohir?

Legolas started running towards the elves. He had to tell them to stop and tell them that this was a misunderstanding. Elrohir was not evil. A pair of hands around his waist stopped Legolas in his tracks as he felt himself being lifted into the air. Legolas squirmed and struggled to be released. He had to stop the fighting. This was wrong.

Going unnoticed to Legolas, an audible sigh of relief could be heard from the parameter. All the spectators had witnessed the elfling running towards the fighting.

"Release me. Set me down," Legolas protested, flailing about like fish, his legs kicking the air.

"Hush Legolas, be calm." Legolas instantly stopped his struggles.

"Noron?" Legolas questioned, as he turned to face his capturer.

"What do you think you're doing running out there? If you got caught in the middle, you could have been seriously injured," his cousin chastised. Legolas cringed.

"But Noron, they're fighting each other. We have to stop them. Elrohir is not bad," Legolas pleaded.

"You must never run out like again, do you understand me?" Noron said, adjusting Legolas to a more comfortable position in his arms. "Oh Valar, if you got injured or worse, I don't even want to think of how your Father would react. Never do that again Legolas."

Now Noron was almost yelling. Noron never yelled. Legolas' eyes filled with tears. Why was Noron was yelling at him for trying to save one of his friends?

"B-But," Legolas started.

"I do not want to hear your excuses. You should not be here, what are you even doing on the training grounds?"

Legolas responded with a sniffle, trying to contain his tears. He didn't want to cry with all of these warriors present. Even though he was an elfling, he was still their Crown Prince.

"Oh Elbereth, Legolas, don't start crying," Noron said, his tone softening, feeling guilty. As Legolas renewed his struggles to be released.

"If I set you down Legolas, you must not run back to the battle." Legolas nodded.

Once placed on the ground, Legolas ran back towards the crowd of elves. He had to find someone who would understand. He had to get his father. If his cousin, a prince of Mirkwood would not stop the fighting, he father, the King surely would. Wiping those unwanted tears away with his sleeve, not paying attention to where he was running, Legolas crashed into pair of legs. He would have fallen to the ground if a pair of hands had not steadied him.

"Are you all right little one?" a familiar voice asked.

Legolas looked up. "Elladan!" he exclaimed, hugging the elf around the legs. Elladan would understand!

"Elladan, we have to save Elrohir. Elrohir is not bad," Legolas explained, as he lifted his arms up, wanting to be held.

"Elrohir in not in danger penneth," he responded, accepting the frantic elfling into his arms.

"But they are fighting and Ada says warriors fight bad things."

"Aye, that is true. This is not a real fight. They are merely practicing with each other. Their weapons are blunt and will cause little harm when struck," Elladan explained. "Though if an elfling were to get caught in the middle, he would be grievously injured."

"Oh," Legolas said. "So Elrohir is safe?" he asked, still skeptical.

"Yes, he is safe," confirmed Noron, who had silently approached them and was now standing beside Elladan.

Still angry with Noron, Legolas turned away from his cousin, burying his face in Elladan's shoulder. Elladan shot Noron a sympathetic look before turning his attention back towards the elfling in his arms.

"Do not be upset with him," Elladan said. "Noron was only protecting you from harm."

"But he was mean to me," Legolas sniffled through Elladan's tunic.

"Aye, sometimes actions may appear unkind even when their intentions are not," Elladan explained, eyeing Elrohir.

Legolas nodded, still upset. He would not forgive Noron that easily.

Cheers could be heard, Legolas realizing he was missing something important, looked up from Elladan's shoulder and saw that Elrohir had emerged from the battle victorious. He had managed to subdue the other elf to the ground, and was now extending a hand to help him up. The pair approached the group smiling.

Noron turned towards Elladan. "You ready Peredhil?" he asked, accepting the sword offered to him by the other warrior.

"Are _you_ ready?" Elladan replied, setting Legolas down, and taking Elrohir's sword.

Noron smiled wickedly. He was considered amongst one of the best of Thranduil's warriors.

Elladan would never back down from a challenge. If he was agreeing to stay in Mirkwood for as long as Elrohir needed to convince himself that he would not 'injure' him, the least he could do was keep from getting rusty, and put in some valuable training time.

When Elladan and his brother were out in the wild, they would often spar against each other in practice. Though it kept their muscles from weakening, Elladan grew bored of it. Practicing with Elrohir was too predictable, he knew his brother felt the same about him, the brothers new each other's moves inside and out. It made them the perfect team for fighting orcs, but in practice with each other it was too safe. You cannot improve your skill if you do not challenge yourself. Evenly matched, neither felt the other was a challenge.

As Elladan and Noron made their way to the center of the field, Legolas clasped tightly onto Elrohir's hand. Now that he understood the purpose of this fighting it excited him something within him. He watched the two warriors move as if they were in an intricately choreographed dance. Efficiently blocking the other's move.

"Elrohir?" Legolas suddenly asked.

"Hmm?" Elrohir responded, his eyes not leaving his brother's movements.

"What does Peredhil mean?"

"Half-Elven," Elrohir replied, still watching his brother. It looked as though Noron had the upper hand, but Elrohir knew his brother was only playing.

"Why did Noron call Elladan half-elven? How can some one be half an elf? He looks like a whole elf to me. Was Noron trying to insult Elladan, because it wasn't a very good one," Legolas said thoughtfully. "I could probably come up with better insults but Ada says I should not because it's not very nice. But sometimes Ada gets angry with his counselors and says their brains must be filled with leaves and inquires as to where their intelligence has gone," Legolas giggled. "Ada is funny!"

Elrohir looked down towards the elfling who was now swinging from his arm.

"Whoa!" Legolas exclaimed, taking notice to the battle again. "They're moving so fast! Who do you think will win Elrohir?"

"Most likely Elladan."

"How can you tell?" Legolas curiously asked.

"Princeling, have you ever seen a sword fight before?"

"Ada says I am not big enough to watch, but I really want to learn. Ada says an elfling's job is to play, not practice for war, but its not fun playing alone."

"Hmm, then I shall explain their movements to you," Elrohir said, as he lifted Legolas into his arms.

"But do not tell your Father, it will be our little secret, okay?" Elrohir whispered into Legolas' ear. It would not bode well to bear the wrath of Thranduil for teaching his son something he was deemed too young to know.

"I promise!" the elfling whispered back through giggles.

Legolas listened intently as Elrohir articulately explained their actions. His eyes widened and his interest for the art grew. Legolas cheered with everyone else, as, like Elrohir had predicted, Elladan emerged victorious. Legolas' awe and respect of the twins only grew. Not only did he still think them of as magical, but they were strong warriors too.

* * *

Legolas walked handing in hand with Elrohir and Elladan, a brother on either side of him. It took some convincing and a bit of persuasion with that one look he knew could give him anything he wanted, and he had managed to claim their attention for the rest of the day. It was a look Legolas had long ago perfected on his father, and only pulled out in emergency situations.

The musical sound of Legolas' laughter filled the gloomy Mirkwood air as they made their way northeast passing tree after tree. Every once in a while the brothers would swing Legolas up in the air between them. The elfling would laugh and laugh in delight, shouting, 'Again, Again!' until they relented.

Elladan had been reluctant to leave the training grounds, but found himself unable to refuse the elfling's request. So here he was, carrying a pack full of lunches, on his way to some meadow that was apparently filled with, as Legolas described, 'the reddest and the brightest flowers you will ever see'.

Along the way Legolas would point out his favorite plants, telling them which trees had the strongest branches for climbing or sang the most harmonious of songs. The voices of Yavanna's creations were wonders completely unknown to the brothers. Being only half-elven they shared a unique mix of both human and elven characteristics. They weren't completely elves but not humankind either; because of this they were not afforded some of the most desired of elven abilities. As elflings it often troubled them, but as adults they had learned to accept that they were different.

As much as Elladan was growing to enjoy Legolas' company, in his heart he desired to be out hunting orcs. Elladan had never known anything as ill as hatred before, but he was sure that is he what he felt for the orcs. He could not peacefully rest until Arda was scoured, free from their vile stench. He could never forget what their kind had done to his family, to his mother. They had not yet found the orcs responsible for harming his mother. With them they took a token, her star-shaped pendant. He would relish the moment when he finally came across those orcs. Elladan had plans he would make them suffer. But as much as Elladan hated orcs and yearned to seek revenge, his love for his brother was stronger. Elrohir had wished to stay in Mirkwood. He could not deny his brother a short moments peace, if that was what Elrohir's heart had desired.

Elladan glanced over towards Elrohir, seeing the look of peaceful content on his face had driven away any grievances Elladan formally had about the loss of a day's practice. He decided the elfling could take them anywhere he wished as long as Elrohir held that peaceful expression.

Elladan had been worried about Elrohir's state after the vision he had suffered last night. But when they awoke in the morning Elrohir seemed fine, almost unfazed by it. Elladan knew Elrohir better then that though. He knew Elrohir was still deeply troubled by the torment he had ruthlessly endured. The whole vision seemed absurd to Elladan, there is nothing Elrohir could possibly do to push him into fading. His brother was the anchor holding him down, not the current of grief threatening to sweep him away.

"Elladan, Elrohir, are you as good with the bow as you are with the sword?" Legolas suddenly asked. His bright blue eyes looked up curiously at the brothers, darting back and forth between them.

"Aye, we are. Though we both prefer the sword to a bow," replied Elrohir. "Why do you ask, princeling?"

"I like the bow," Legolas told them, his eyes sparkling. "Sometimes at sunrise Ada will take wake me up and take me to the archery ranges, and help me practice archery!" The excitement could not be missed from his voice. "But we haven't been able to practice together lately because Ada's always so busy," he said solemnly, "but its okay because Noron promised to practice with me soon!"

"Your Father allows you to use a bow?" Elladan asked bewildered. It was almost unheard of for an elfling so young to be taught to yield a weapon of any sort, other than toy swords for play. Thranduil came off as a tad bit too overprotective, Elladan was surprised Thranduil would allow his son to even hold a weapon, let alone practice using one.

"Ada made me a bow that's just for my size," Legolas chimed excitedly. "You must keep it a secret," he confided. "Ada says that if other elflings found out then they'll want one too. Ada doesn't want to deal with their angry parents. So promise you won't tell other elflings, okay?"

Elrohir grinned, "Yes Princeling, we promise we won't tell other elflings."

"Maybe we can practice together sometime with Noron," Legolas suggested. "I still need help pulling the string to full draw, Ada says my arms are not strong enough for it yet. Unless the target is really close, the arrow just bounces off it," Legolas rambled on. "But Ada says that's okay and I shouldn't be upset or cry, because I still hit the target from far away, even if the arrow doesn't go in it."

"Practicing together would be a nice idea," Elladan said. If Legolas' words were true, Elladan wondered what Legolas would be capable of when he was older. _He could be a formidable warrior one day_. For an elfling of Legolas age and size to even be able to hit a target from some distance was a huge feat.

"I'm going to practice really hard, so I can be a really strong warrior like Ada when I grow up," Legolas continued. "I want to protect the forest, and travel to villages and save people from orcs like you guys do!"

Both brothers stopped midstride. Elladan's face paled, his breath hitched. A look from Elrohir told him, his brother was thinking the exact same thing.

"Why are you guys stopping? We are almost there," Legolas said, tugging their hands forward. "Look, the flowers are just past those trees!"

Elrohir was first to recover. "You think we travel, _saving_ villages from orcs?" he asked. From where did the elfling draw up this conclusion? Legolas couldn't seriously think that they _willingly _travelled to human villages to _save_ humans from orcs?

"Yes!" Legolas exclaimed. "That's how you ended up in Mirkwood, right? You said so Elrohir; you were tracking a band of orcs that slaughtered a human settlement in the North. I heard you say it," he claimed. "I want to be a hero like you guys! I do not wish for anyone to lose their Nana like I did. When I grow up I will protect everyone like you do!"

Elladan felt as if he just received a blow to his gut. He couldn't breath.

Not waiting for a reply, Legolas dropped their hands upon seeing the meadow. He ran with glee towards the flowers. He had to find the perfect place for them to sit!

A cold breeze tore through the air, sending chills down Elrohir's spine.

Elladan was barely aware of his surroundings. He felt cold, his chest heavy. A battle of conflicting emotion raged through his head, tearing at his sanity. He could feel Elrohir's hand grasping is arm, but couldn't register why. He could hear a distinct ringing in his ears; he saw Elrohir's lips moving but could not make out what he was saying. He felt Elrohir pull him close, wrapping his arms firmly around him as he trembled. He could feel his brother's warmth, the contact slowly calming him, filling the dark emptiness.

"I am here," he finally heard Elrohir say, pulling him back to reality. "He is just a child, he does not understand. Do not be troubled."

_No, you are wrong dear brother_, Elladan thought to himself as Elrohir took his hand, leading him on, into the meadow.

_Could I have been wrong about everything this whole time? _Elladan questioned to himself. But he remembered that look in his mother's eyes, when had they first found her, lying in that dark cave, tormented, broken, and hopeless. _No, I am right. Revenge is the only way my heart will settle, revenge may not heal her, but her captors deserve nothing less. _

Elladan felt so lost so confused. He felt as though everything he knew, he thought, had been blown out of proportion. He saw his grief as a weakness, motivating him to revenge. He wanted retribution for his mother's suffering. Legolas was the complete opposite. Legolas' grief over his mother's loss was his strength, fueling his desire to protect others, so they would not suffer as he had.

"He is so innocent, his heart is so pure," Elladan whispered as they watched Legolas run through the meadow.

Legolas stopped as a spot at near the center of the flowers. He waved them over, smiling brightly.

"Ayes, he is noble, truly worthy of the title, Prince," Elrohir agreed, as he gently led his brother towards the little elfling, through the meadow of endless red flowers, _poppies._

Elrohir continuously shot Elladan concerned glances. _Aye, Elladan is more fragile then I thought_. Since their mother's departure he could see Elladan slowly spiraling downwards, helpless to stop it.

Elrohir found sweet fragrance of the poppies to be soothing, hoping it would further calm his brother. He could feel Elladan tremble beneath his grasp. What he would give to know what his brother was feeling and thinking. So badly he wished to help his brother, to his dismay he started to realize, he could not do it alone.

"Elrohir! Elladan! I found the perfect spot for us se-" the elfling's expression fell at Elladan's state. "What's wrong Elladan?" he asked, reaching to clasp Elladan's hand. "Are your injuries still hurting you?" he asked, his expression serious.

"Worry not, Princeling," Elrohir answered for him. "Elladan will be fine." _I hope. _

Elrohir forced his brother down, onto the bed of flowers. He pulled Elladan close, so his brother's head was resting on his lap.

"Are you hungry little one?" Elrohir asked, rummaging through Elladan's satchel. Before pulling out an apple.

Legolas nodded as he picked a red flower, twirling it between his tiny fingers before handing it to Elladan. "Here," he offered. "Rudiel says poppies are used for taking away pain."

Elladan weakly smiled, accepting the gift. "Thank you."

Elladan closed his eyes lulled by the faint smell of the poppy field as Elrohir softly stroked his hair.

"I am so happy you guys are here!" Legolas said through bites of his apple, letting the sweet juices dribble down his chin onto his tunic. "Tomorrow is the Festival of Elbereth, the longest night of the year. Ada says its going to be very special be cause we will have a day moon. Ada says that means whole night will only be filled with stars! I know you will feel better tomorrow because the festival makes everyone happy! And Ada says I am big enough to stay up all night this year!"

"Is that so?" Elrohir answered thoughtfully. _So it is the Winter Solstice already. That means it has been nearly 9 years._

"Is Elladan alright?" Legolas asked concerned. "Why are his eyes closed?"

"It is because we are Peredhil."

"But you are not half of an elf. You are a whole elf!"

Elrohir chuckled, "Legolas, if you know the story of Thingol and Melian, then surely you know of their daughter Lúthien."

"She fell in love with a human!"

" Yes, same with Idril Celebrindal. From those two separate lineages came Elwing and Eärendil our Father's parents. Peredhil is a term referring to our human lineage."

"So you're humans too!" Legolas exclaimed. Elladan and Elrohir were almost too good to be true; they were both of Maia, elf-kind, and humankind.

"Are you also a Dwarf?"

Elrohir smiled, "I do not know of any stories of a Dwarf becoming enamored with an Elf!"

"When I am big and go on adventures I will find you one!" Legolas joked through a fit of musical giggles.

"I am sure you will elfling! And what a good story that would be!"

Legolas gave the rest of his apple to a rabbit that had come to visit as he slid closer to Elrohir. Elrohir put an arm around the elfling as Legolas leaned into him; his small fingers stroked Elladan's soft hair.

"Elrohir can you tell me a story of when you and Elladan were elflings?"

"Sure, but first I must ask you, have you seen a waterfall before?"

"No"

"Well then, I must first describe them to you for this tale to make sense…"

* * *

Thranduil sat in his office, slowly messaging his brow. Word had just come in from the birds, the Peredhil's orcs had been found. The large band had been seen south of his borders, past Enchanted River. They were to close for comfort but to far away to be a cause of alarm just yet.

With tomorrow night's festival Thranduil did not want to cause his people to worry. After all, Thranduil had brought in several large kegs of Dorwinion wine just for occasion. The festival of Elbereth was the most sought after time of the year. Thranduil decided he would allow his people this night's peace before he called together a military council.

The calm before the storm…

"_So it begins_"

* * *

The wind was blowing viciously, chilling Elladan. The brothers had agreed it was time to head back to Thranduil's Halls. Elrohir gently picked up the sleepy Legolas. He decided he would rather carry an elfling, than hold onto a sticky hand. Legolas was okay with it, it was a long walk back, and he was feeling tired. Resting his head on Elrohir's shoulder, the soft motion of Elrohir walking slowly eased Legolas into a peaceful sleep.

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N:** Hope everyone enjoyed this instalment!

**Here are a couple definitions:**

Concerning the chapter title the word **Pseudo** can mean _pretended, not genuine, false_, or _fake_.

Concerning **poppies**, or more specifically _opium derived poppies_, have been used medically mainly for pain relief and sedation. This is usually done by smoking or eating the opium. Opium is a governmentally controlled substance and is illegal (in North America anyway - I don't know about other countries). It is commonly used in types of morphine. There is a specific way that opium contained within the poppy seeds have to be cultivated in order to be potent. As a disclaimer - DO NOT go around eating poppies, you'll just get sick and look like an idiot. Anyways opium poppies are not commercially sold.

The Next chapter is _tentatively_ called **Chapter 8 - The Calm.**


	9. The Calm

**Chapter 8 – The Calm **

It was late in the evening, long past the usual hours one would normally lay down to rest but not quite early enough be called morning. Elrohir was unable to find any comfort beneath the safe covers of his bed. His mind was clouded with worry over his brother's state and with fear, fear of having another vision. Elrohir's heart could not handle watching his brother fade whether it be in conscious reality or as a dream.

So Elrohir took to wandering the dark halls of the stone palace in hopes that the effect of a brisk walk could clear his troubled mind. He would never openly admit it but he always found the caves of Mirkwood be rather daunting. If one did not know where they were going they could forever become lost in the Elvenking's labyrinth of cold stone.

He remembered his first visit to Mirkwood, or rather Greenwood the Great as it was called at the time, there had been no great stone palace. The forest had been filled with light and beauty, the greatest of forests in all of Arda. Thranduil and his kin had lived amongst the trees in structures similar to those of Galadriel and Celeborn. Every trip since he had taken to Greenwood, the forest progressively changed, become vastly different than that from the previous visit. Until on one visit it came to be known as Mirkwood, baring no resemblance to its former self.

On his walk, lost in his thoughts Elrohir found himself at junction between two caverns and decided to go left. The cavern seemed to turn dimmer. Not quite comfortable with being completely surrounded by rock, Elrohir was just about to turn back when he suddenly found himself walking through a large courtyard, a large open garden contained within the vast walls of impenetrable stone.

Vines of ivy and climbing roses of pale moonlight scaled the thick granite walls, bushes and flowers of every color, some of the likes of which Elrohir had never seen before were spread across the soft moss covered ground. But of all the magnificent things contained within this garden, none were more spectacular than The Tree, growing tall, out from the centre. It's branches hung like a blanket of warm deep green leaves, lovingly protecting the flora beneath.

Though it was mid-winter the tree contained its large leaves, everlasting, not abiding to the frost filled air. White star shaped flowers danced among the branches. Elrohir stood there in a state of mixed fascination and awe. He had never seen a tree more beautiful.

A soft whisper carried by the light breeze made its way to Elrohir's ears.

"The palace was built around this tree. In times of great peril we needed something more than ourselves to protect."

Elrohir had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed that he was not alone. He turned towards the direction of the soft voice. The Elvenking sat upon a white bench beneath the tree with the lower hanging branches partially shielding him from view.

"I beg your forgiveness, your Majesty. I mean not to intrude," Elrohir stammered out, realizing he must be in one of Thranduil's private gardens.

Thranduil kindly smiled. "Elbereth's joy belongs to us all. Please come join me," he said motioning towards the spot next to him.

Elrohir smiled, accepting the King's invitation.

"Elrohir you need not keep calling me 'your Majesty'. I am King of the Silvan only because my people afforded me that position. I only lead because they wish to follow," Thranduil stated. "A Sindar Lord, yes I am, but no Thingol am I."

"Thranduil, you are too humble," Elrohir replied. "Are Sindar and Silvan not one in the same? Both chose to stay rather then make the great journey, it's just a matter of where you stopped along the path that determines what you are called. And even so, you are both wise and just, as great as any Noldor King."

"A Kingship, which rightfully belongs to Elrond," Thranduil replied, smiling warmly at the twin's compliment. Elrohir was alike his father in many ways. "A peculiar world we live where I, a Lord am called King, and your Father, both the rightful Noldor High King and true heir to the Sindar throne is only called a Lord," he said thoughtfully. "At first I begrudged Elrond for not taking claim to throne, his birth right, but sometimes I feel his choice was the wiser one," Thranduil said gravely.

"Is something amiss Thranduil? I have not known you to be so sentimental," Elrohir exclaimed in surprise, turning to face the Elvenking. His breath caught in his chest, Thranduil seemed to glow, emitting the warmth and essence of a star.

"The shadow of Mirkwood lays heavy upon my shoulders," Thranduil solemnly replied. There was something different about the way Thranduil spoke that Elrohir just couldn't quite place, concerning him, but he wisely chose not to speak of it.

The pair sat there in a comfortable silence, the light evening breeze sporadically brought the delightful smell of blossoms to their noses, enlightening their senses, filling them with warmth. Thranduil took in the elf sitting next to him. His keen eyes missed no detail. The normally fair and bright face from memory was masked by lingering despair and worry. The light of peaceful innocence was gone from his eyes.

"You are deeply troubled, my friend," the Elvenking acknowledged. "A trouble that you did not bring with you but rather gained, for you would not be roaming the halls otherwise," he remarked. "Has the forest's shadow already breeched your gentle heart?"

"A shadow has breeched my heart long ago, but tis not from the forest."

"Your Mother." Thranduil whispered.

"Yes," Elrohir confirmed. There was a tremble to his voice that hoped Thranduil didn't catch.

"Celebrían, I mourned for my dear cousin, just as I mourn for my beloved," Thranduil confessed.

Elrohir lifted his head at Thranduil's words. It was then he realized that Thranduil had lost much too. More than he ever had. For the Elvenking's eyes were the same as his Fathers. Though Elrohir had been alive for over two millennia he suddenly felt very young. Perhaps more young in experience than age, for he had never known pain and sorrow such as this before, where his Father and Thranduil, being born in the first age had grown up surrounded by it. Though he had learned and seen much on his hunt for revenge.

"A heavy shadow has been cast upon Arda, slowly laying siege upon her lands," Elrohir said bitterly. "Ever slowly, I fear darkness shall return." He spoke with such powerful emotion that Thranduil turned towards him and was pierced by the intensity and fire of Elrohir's gaze.

"Aye," Thranduil responded, he knew all too well what the twin was referring to. "But Elrohir, do not be so quick as to lose hope. There is still light left in this world," Thranduil said. "You just have to know where to seek it.

"Legolas lost his mother only six summers ago. He was with her when it happened," he spoke softly, his voice barely reaching a whisper. "Though the details are still a mystery. By some small mercy he was found along the banks of the Enchanted River and has little memory of her or her death. Only in nightmares – shadows and visions he cannot not yet comprehend or understand, does he remember."

"I am sorry," Elrohir said remorsefully. Part of him couldn't help but to feel guilty. He mourned his mother who was still alive, where Legolas had none.

"Legolas is strong," Thranduil said. "He does not know it but he is a source of light for many in this time of growing fear and shadow. Having an elfling running about shows the warriors there is still light left in Mirkwood. The young give us hope for the future, something to protect and cherish."

Legolas amazed Elrohir. A child so small, who had endured so much, was so strong and compassionate. He realized then how thankful he was that he had memory of his mother. He could remember her laugh, her smile as if she were at that moment right next to him. He was thankful those precious moments had not been taken away from him.

"I still worry for him," Thranduil said, as a light breeze blew through the air. "No child should have to endure such shadow. I wonder how it affects his soul. He can feel the shadow no less than anyone else can. The only difference is he cannot fully understand it. I wonder what kind of elf he will grow to become."

Elrohir smiled at yesterday's memory, little Legolas proclaiming how he wants to become a warrior so he can protect everyone. "You are raising him well," Elrohir confirmed. For if Elrohir were to have a little one of his own, he would hope for one to be like Legolas. "Legolas is the youngest elfling I know of," Elrohir added in afterthought.

"Aye, he is one of the last born in Mirkwood. Before Dol Guldur, Greenwood was filled with the laughter of many elflings. Those times were peaceful and filled with such beauty. Now we have no more than thirty, scattered throughout the Northern forest, hidden amongst the trees by their families. They are all precious to us, Legolas more so than any. A symbol of hope for his kingdom."

"It is rare for Elladan to smile these days, near Legolas it is impossible not to," Elrohir declared. Legolas was that sort of spark of life, of light that Elladan and he had been missing out on, on their hunt.

"He tends to have that effect," Thranduil said. He paused before continuing in a more somber tone, " Elrohir, I am concerned for your brother."

"Aye," Elrohir said. "I do not know what to do anymore," he chocked out. "Elladan is slowly falling into shadow. I feel so helpless," he said, clenching his fists. "And-" Elrohir stopped.

"And?" Thranduil softly prodded.

"And I had a vision. He is going to fade and I will be the cause of it," Elrohir whispered as tears softly ran down his cheeks. Thranduil was slightly taken aback. To see the twins who were once so full of light become tormented by such shadow.

"Are you sure that is what the vision was actually showing you?" Thranduil questioned, visibly concerned. "Tell me what you saw, a different perspective may help decipher its true meaning."

"He was laying in a bed – motionless and I was grieving over him. The emotions and thoughts hit me so strongly, as if they were my own thoughts and feelings. I am afraid. Elladan thinks it is folly, but why would I have such a vision if it would not come to pass?" he said, brushing the tears away from his eyes.

"There is still hope. It was your father's belief that the Valar granted him visions to either both correct and change their outcome, or to set the paving stones leading towards that ideal future. Your visions grant you a choice. Somewhere along your path you will reach a point where your actions will either lead towards that vision or away from it. You have been gifted with the foresight of a possible future; you have the chance to change it. Do not despair dear Peredhil."

Elrohir's heart warmed to Thranduil's words.

"I will help you find the answers to your riddles," Thranduil said, looking into Elrohir's eyes, there was something more than what Elrohir was telling. He frowned, "Something more troubles you."

"He, Elladan, he closed off our bond," Elrohir whispered, distressed he brought his hands up to cover his face. "I cannot feel him, it's so empty."

His body shook with sobs as he released everything. The loneliness was almost too much to bear. He would rather feel his brother's pain than not feel him at all. Elrohir cried, releasing all that pent up anguish and frustration, the emotions that came with that deep feeling of emptiness his twin had left behind after Elladan blocked their bond.

Thranduil comfortingly wrapped his arms around Elrohir, having finally gotten to the root of the problem. It pained him to see how the son's of Elrond had suffered. They lived such peaceful and innocent lives up in the safe haven of Imladris. Protected from the shadows of the world. Their father had coddled them. Before their mother, they knew nothing of pain and despair, so unlike Legolas who was born and raised under shadow.

Sometimes Thranduil envied the home Elrond was able to create. He wished for Legolas to know of peace. To be able to go outside and not have to be in fear of the shadows and the dark creatures that lay at his doorstep. He wished his people did not have to sacrifice their lives protecting their home. Such thoughts were constantly on Thranduil's mind. He quickly pushed them away. It would not do well to dwell on false realities. This was his reality. He had to remain strong.

Thranduil looked down at the Peredhil. He soothingly stroked his hair, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu– from a memory of old. His robe was damp from Elrohir's silent tears. Thranduil stayed like that, holding Elrohir, remembering the first time he met the twins. They were only a couple of years older than Legolas at the time, so young, carefree, and innocent.

Thranduil held Elrohir as he watched the stars slowly fade away in the morning sky, as the sun peaked its way out over the edge of the forest, bringing with it the light of a new day.

* * *

When Elrohir awoke he found himself lying alone, warm and comfortable, under the star tree. His cheeks reddened as he realized Thranduil's outer robe had been spread over his body. He must have fallen asleep in Thranduil's arms. The thought alone was horribly embarrassing. Elrohir groaned as he realized that he must return Thranduil's robe to him, he was not sure if he was ready to face the Elvenking again. He had displayed such weakness to someone so great.

The morning was so peaceful in the courtyard that Elrohir had decided to stay lying on the bench for just a little while longer. He would face the morning in a bit; right now he just wanted to relax. Small colorful birds danced in the air, merrily singing their morning songs, Elrohir smiled at the sight. Having confided in Thranduil he felt lighter, as if a small bit of that heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He still despaired over his brother, but he did not feel as hopeless. He would heed Thranduil's counsel.

His ears twitched to the sound of a light footfall. Someone was approaching. Looks like his moment of solitary peace would soon end. Elrohir turned towards the sound just in time, to catch a little elfling flying into his arms.

"Aww how did you know I was there? I was trying to sneak up on you," Legolas exclaimed through giggles.

"You'll have to try a lot hard than that the sneak up on me little one," Elrohir said. Legolas' eyes glowed at the unintentional challenge. Elrohir smiled seeing his brother standing near the entrance of the courtyard. Elladan looked well rested.

Elrohir would never admit it but Legolas had almost managed to catch him off guard. The footsteps Elrohir had heard did not belong to Legolas but rather Elladan. If Elladan had not been there Legolas would have given him quite the fright.

"We have been searching for you all morning! You are very hard to find Elrohir. But Ada said that you would be under Nana's tree!"

"Your mother's tree?"

"Yes," the elfling nodded. "This was Nana's favorite tree! Ada said that a very long time ago one of the Valar came to Nana and gave her the seeds to plant this tree. Not only that but also this tree is very special, because Ada said that after the Battle of the Last Alliance he was very sad because his Ada died, and so he went away, exploring Greenwood alone. That is when he found Nana sitting under the tree! That is how they met! When he came back from exploring that is when Ada was crowned King!" Legolas told them in excitement.

Elrohir looked down towards the ground. "I did not know," he whispered.

"Of course you didn't! Ada doesn't like talking about it very much. I can tell it makes him sad."

Elrohir felt horrible for barging in on Thranduil last night. Thranduil was probably mourning his wife, and Elrohir had to come in and thrown all his worries onto the King.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Elladan's smiling face. "Come on," he said, helping Elrohir up.

* * *

The palace was bustling with activity as woodelves of various stations made their way about in frantic preparation for the evening's festivities, the Festival of Elbereth, the Woodelves' New Year. Of all the elven realms, Mirkwood was in highest population of first born. Many villages and settlements prepared their own celebrations. Only the few villages near the Elvenking's palace had the honour of partaking in the festivities in the presence of their revered King. The cooks spent long hours in preparation for theses feastings. Servants transported barrels of precious wine towards the clearing where the evening's celebration would be held.

With all this activity going on, Legolas would normally be in the way offering his assistance to the annoyance of busy elves, having to forgo their preparations in order to entertain the whims of their young prince. But with Elrohir and Elladan, that was no longer a problem. Legolas had a greater interest in Elrohir and Elladan than the on goings of the servants.

Legolas realizing he had yet to show the twins his bedroom decided to take them there first. With their hands held in the enthusiastically tight grip of the tiny elfling, the twins were whisked away. They both couldn't help but to notice, to their confusion, the looks of pity of elves they past. The servants knew all to well that once one had agreed to spend time with Legolas, they were trapped in doing so for the rest of the day. It was difficult to make an escape from the elfling's presence without upsetting him. Though the servants loved their tiny prince dearly, most could not usually spare time to qualm his curiosity and resorted to avoiding him altogether rather than denying him. Resulting in a usually very lonely elfling.

Legolas' bedroom or rather, bedrooms were quite large. The door leading to his personal chambers opened up to a large sitting room, filled with low laying book shelves, toys carved from wood, and animals sewn from soft velvets stuffed full with feathers. The room was light, airy and welcoming. A comfortable and well-used rocking chair sat off to side, reminding the twins just how young Legolas actually was. Though he was well past the tiny toddler years, he was still incredibly small, barely reaching their waist in height.

The door to the left opened up to an equally large room where Legolas' oversized bed was kept, the door to the right of the sitting room led to a smaller sized bathing chamber. It was his bedroom where Legolas lead them. He dropped hold of their hands and skipped over to his bedside table, opening the drawing and pulling out one his favorite books.

"Can you guys read to me?" Legolas asked, as he handed Elladan the book. It wasn't very often someone had time to read him stories during the day. Sometimes if his father was in his office, Legolas could persuade him to read. But that didn't happen very often. His father, being head of the state as well as head of the defensive forces was always very busy. Legolas did not like disturbing his father's important work. So he only got read to before bed, usually falling asleep to his father's soft voice.

"Of course!" Elladan replied.

Legolas moved his favorite stuffed rabbit out of the way as the three elves settled themselves onto his bed, leaning against the headboard. Elladan and Elrohir sat next to each other with Legolas snuggling comfortably in Elladan's lap holding his stuffed animal.

"This one is my most favorite book!" the elfling exclaimed.

"And why is that?" Elrohir asked playfully.

Legolas handed Elrohir his beloved rabbit as he took the book from Elladan's hands and opened it. "See!" he showed them.

The twins marveled at the pages. It was a very old book, but greatly cared for. Most elven books were filled with elegant script, but this one had something different. Every other page was filled with a colorful illustration, depicting what the script on the other page was about. The two brothers made eye contact with each other and smiled. There were few books in Arda, which had been written solely for an elfling's enjoyment, because there were so few elflings in Arda. They had not seen a book in the likes of this since they were last elflings over two millennia ago.

Legolas eagerly flipped to the first page before handing the book back to Elladan. Elladan was about to read when he noticed something quite odd, something seemingly out of place. He paused at the book, momentarily trying to make sense of it.

"Elladan, why aren't you reading?" Legolas anxiously asked.

"Legolas, can you understand this?" Elladan asked, referring to the pages.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Ada reads it to me all the time!" If they had asked, Legolas could have recited the whole story from pure memory alone.

"But Legolas, this story is written in Quenya," Elladan said baffled. He had been taught that Oropher, following Thingol's rule had banned the use of Quenya from the Sindarin culture. It was odd that Thranduil would allow his son to learn such a language.

"Really? Let me see," Elrohir asked, holding his hand out for the book. "Legolas, you can understand Quenya?"

"Yes, Aerion is teaching me! He is one of Ada's councilors, and he is the one who gave me this book," Legolas exclaimed. He fidgeted in Elladan's lap. The elfling just really wanted them to read the story.

"But why would Thranduil have his son learn such an archaic language?" Elrohir asked, turning towards Elladan.

"Yes, it makes so sense to me brother. Was it not banned from Oropher's realm? And regardless Quenya is rarely spoken in Arda anymore. Not even Galadriel uses it. Only in song and lore is it heard," Elladan said.

Legolas pouted crossing his arms. He just wanted them to read the story, not talk about languages. Legolas already had enough language and history lessons to attend without them encroaching on his playtime. What did it matter what language the story was written in? Unless the twins didn't understand Quenya, or maybe they just didn't want to read to him.

Elrohir noticed Legolas' expression and frowned.

"We are sorry little one, it is just strange to us that a Mirkwood elfling would know of such an ancient language," explained Elrohir. "Even one who is a prince."

"Ada says that it may be useful for me to know one day," Legolas explained, still not understanding what was so special about Quenya. It was just another language to him, like Sindarin, Silvan, and Common speech. He had books in all those languages. The Quenya book was the only one with beautiful pictures though.

"But that is peculiar, for to the most of my knowledge, Quenya is only commonly spoken in Valinor," Elladan said.

Legolas looked up at them with sad eyes, "So you will not read to me? You do not understand Quenya?"

Elladan laughed, "Of course we understand Quenya. We just found it surprising that you can. I am happy to read to you, little one!"

* * *

It wasn't until hours later when Lealle, Legolas' nursemaid came to help dress him for the evening that Legolas' excitement really took off. Elladan and Elrohir had both left for their chambers, preparing themselves for the festivities.

Legolas could barely sit still as Lealle washed his face with a soft cloth. She helped him change into fresh leggings and a tunic, before she lovingly closed all the silver clasps on his formal robe. She sung to him softly as she brushed and pleated his soft golden hair, before placing a mithril circlet on his head.

Legolas would never openly admit it, but he secretly liked it whenever Lealle would fuss over his appearance. Some times pulling him aside to straighten his tunic, or pull up his leggings, or smooth out his hair. Most of the female elves around the palace would fuss over Legolas, but Lealle fussed over him the most and did so properly.

Lealle was one of his mother's closest friends. Some times she would tell him stories or things about his mother, that not even his father knew, Legolas always felt very special during those moments, and closer to the mother he didn't really know.

She was also a source of comfort for him when his father had to go away either fighting spiders or travelling to other villages. Lealle was the one Legolas would go to when he tore a hole in his leggings or needed help buttoning the very difficult buttons on his tunic. She was also the one who made stuffed animals for him, and sewed him new tunics when his old ones became too small. She was in many ways very much a mother to him, though he would never call her so, she would only ever be Lealle.

Lealle stood before Legolas, assessing his appearance. She smiled satisfied with her work. "Alright my little leaf," she sung. "You are all ready for tonight. Let us go search for her father."

Legolas beamed as she led him out of his room.

* * *

Legolas clasped his father's hand tightly. After what seemed like the longest wait ever, they were finally walking towards the large clearing where the Festival of Elbereth would be held. Even though the winter air chilled him to the bone this was Legolas' favorite time of the year. He could already hear the sounds of singing coming from far off in the distance. A flutter of nervous excitement flitted through his stomach.

Soft glowing lanterns marked their way as the Elvenking's entourage made their way down the long winding path, weaving through closely knitted trees. The hour was of twilight, the soft diffuse of the sun shown over the horizon in colors of bright oranges, glowering reds and pale purples. Elbereth's brightest stars could already be seen.

Elrohir and Elladan looked towards the clearing in a state of awe. There were so many elves. Both Elleth and Ellon had winter flowers and pale leaves braided and weaved into their long flowing hair, dark like the night sky or pale silver like the moon.

Upon arrival the Elvenking and his son were instantly whisked away by various village leaders eager to mingle with their King. Legolas held on tightly to his father's hand. As excited as he was about the festival, the shear number of elves was overwhelming to the elfling. He until he got more accustomed to his surroundings, he feared separation from his father and becoming lost amongst the very tall elves in the crowd.

Legolas listened as his father was drawn into a very long uninteresting conversation. He knew it was rude to interrupt but he so desperately wanted to gain his father's attention. He didn't like feeling so small around so many elves he didn't know or recognize. He desperately tugged on his father's arm.

Finally the King looked down at his son. Realizing what the elfling wanted Thranduil swept him up into his arms and held him close. He brushed some fly away hairs away from his son's face and kissed his forehead before continuing on with his conversation.

Legolas snuggled into his Father's warm embrace, appreciating the view he got from this particular vantage point. He watched with a shy smile as the elves around him merrily danced and sang under the stars. Once he was feeling braver and able to gather some courage he decided he would go out and search for Elladan and Elrohir. He wondered if they felt nervous like him because they wouldn't know anyone around here either. Yes, he would seek them out in a bit. For now the elfling was content with just being close to his father.

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update. I was buried under a huge pile of midterms and term papers and I put off updating this chapter because I wasn't completely happy with it. I'm still not sure if I am. Anyways let me know what you think. :) Reviews are very motivating. The next chapter is almost complete and should be up within the next couple of days. Its going to be a complete 180.


	10. The Storm

**Chapter 9 – The storm **

As Thranduil's party slowly started to diffuse into the crowd both Elrohir and Elladan felt a little awkward standing there. They had before never attended such a large celebration with the Silvan elves of Mirkwood. Not wanting to impose, they were both unsure of what to do. It was then they were saved by Noron, who lead them to one of the very large kegs of Dorwinion, claiming it for his own.

Elladan was reluctant to participate in the merrymaking. He would have rather of enjoyed to sit somewhere quite and alone, looking upon the stars in a peaceful silence than attending a large gathering. But the Elvenking had graciously invited him. Thranduil had even lent his brother and himself formal robes and identical mithril circlets for the occasion, saying they should appear as the princes they are. Elladan complied, not wanting to be ungrateful towards Thranduil's kindness.

Noron's group sat around a large circular table, talking and laughing in merriment. Elladan had declined the glass of wine that was offered to him, not wanting to have to deal with the repercussions that developed with drink. He ignored the jests that came with his refusal and the look of sympathy Elrohir shot his way. He just sat there, silently watching Elrohir, Noron, and Noron's friends consume glass after glass of Dorwinion in various games of drinking sport. Elladan didn't need his gift of foresight to tell him where this evening would lead. Elrohir had a weak stomach, much like himself; drink always quickly claimed their senses leaving them weak willed, loose tongued and often rather ill.

After a short while, having become quite fed up with sitting near Noron and his friends, Elladan silently slipped away unnoticed to the side of the clearing, and found a nice sturdy tree to lean against. He found that he had been too noticeable near Noron, having been approached by far to many Ellith and even some Ellyn asking for his hand in a dance. He was starting to run out of excuses and soft lines of rejection to throw their way. He felt it best just to disappear into silence.

Breathing a long sigh of relief, Elladan looked up towards the night sky and found _Menelmacar_, his favorite constellation, The Swordsman in the Sky, The Lost Valar, the son to _Tulkas, Tulkas _who was the Valar's greatest warrior.* Menelmacar could only be seen in the winter and gave Elladan an odd sense of strength. He basked in its presence. The stars seemed to shine exceedingly bright this evening.

A slight tug on his sleeve tore Elladan away from his peaceful stargazing. He looked down and was met with Legolas' bright blue eyes. Eyes that were watery, looking as if the elfling were about to burst into tears.

Before Elladan even had chance to ask what could have upset the previously excited and happy elfling, Legolas sniffled and blurted out; "Noron spilt Dorwinion on my sleeve. _See_," he said, holding his sleeve up for view.

Elladan frowned and knelt down to Legolas' level, gently examining the garment. "That wasn't very nice of him," he said, sympathetic to Legolas' situation. "What happened, Little One?" he asked, though threw his wisdom he probably could have guessed.

"I was trying to get Elrohir's attention when Noron picked me up and placed me on the table. He wanted me to sing and dance, but I did not wish to," Legolas pouted, crossing his arms. Pleased that found an ally to his situation. The warriors surrounding Noron were not very helpful and Elrohir had been sleeping on the table, unable to come to his aid.

"I am sorry that happened to you, little one. Would you care to join me on a walk? You can show me your favorite things," Elladan suggested.

"Okay!" Legolas chimed, as he reached for Elladan's hand, completely forgetting about his soiled sleeve.

Once he finally managed to gather his courage and leave his father, Legolas had found himself to be rather bored. The walk instantly brightened Legolas' spirits as he started rambling on about his favorite stars. They came across a group of dark haired elflings playing amongst the trees, catching fireflies. Legolas stopped talking and longingly looked on towards them. They looked like they were having so much fun.

"I do not recognize those elflings," Legolas shyly remarked.

"Why don't you go play with them?"

"I cannot," Legolas said mournfully, clutching Elladan's hand tighter, turning to bury his face in he folds of Elladan's robes.

"And why is that?" Elladan questioned as he knelt to Legolas' level.

"Because once they find out I am their prince they will not treat me like I am normal."

"Hmm, well then we will just have to make sure they do not discover who you are, until you are ready to reveal it to them," Elladan playfully suggested.

"How?" Legolas asked, somewhat skeptical yet intrigued.

"Well for starters, hand me your circlet."

Legolas protectively placed his hands around his head. "Ada says I mustn't take it off," he protested.

"It will only be for while you are playing with them. If you are wearing it then it will be obvious who you are. You must blend in," reasoned Elladan.

"Like when I blend in with the trees!" This idea was very exciting. Legolas obediently took off the tiny mithril ring, gently handing it to Elladan.

Elladan carefully pocketed to precious item. "Now hand me your outer robe," he said.

"But I will be cold in only a long sleeved tunic and leggings."

"Once you get running around you will warm up quickly, and at any time you find you are too cold to play just come back to me and we will get you warmed up, okay?"

"Okay!" Legolas excitedly agreed as he took off his heavily embroidered formal robe handing it to Elladan.

"Alright, now you look 'normal' to me. I think you're ready to play with them," Elladan smiled, smoothing Legolas' hair away from his face.

Legolas looked longingly towards the elflings and sighed. He could not admit it to Elladan that he was afraid. Elladan was such a strong and brave warrior, a hero. What if the other elflings still didn't want to play with him? What if he only got in the way of their game? He couldn't let one of his heroes find out that he was scared of a possible rejection. It was such a simple fear but yet had such a strong hold on his heart.

Elladan's expression dropped when Legolas did not move, but rather stared nervously towards the ground at his feet. Elladan gently lifted Legolas' chin, the look in the elfling's eyes told him everything he needed to know. Elladan pulled Legolas into a warm embrace and felt the elfling hug him back tightly.

"Worry not young one," he murmured. "Do not let the unknown dampen your spirit. There comes a time when we all faced with a fear of something we are unable to control, and must walk straight into it in order to overcome it."

"Even you?" Legolas timidly asked.

"Yes, even me. It's having the strength and courage to face those fears that matters rather than the outcome. Do not let the unknown stop you from trying."

Legolas wondered what Elladan could possibly be afraid of. Elrohir and Elladan were brave fearless warriors in Legolas' eyes. Everything he wanted to become and more.

"Umm Elladan," he said shyly.

"What is it?" Elladan asked, as he brushed as strand of pale golden hair behind Legolas' ear.

"Will you stay and watch me?" he nervously asked.

"Of course, I will not leave you alone," Elladan said smiling. "Come, I shall help you take your first steps." Elladan stood and reached down for Legolas' tiny hand. He took it within his and led him towards the playing elflings.

Legolas tired his best to appear brave, attempting to school his features like his father, holding on to the small thread of courage Elladan gave him.

"Hello there, little ones!" Elladan called out towards the elflings. The elflings stopped playing, stared wide eyed up at Elladan. "This is my friend Legolas, he doesn't know anyone around here. Can he play with you?"

One of the braver elflings approached, smiling. "Yes," he exclaimed taking Legolas' other hand.

"What is your name little one?" Elladan asked the elfling.

"Fawne," he answered Elladan before turning towards Legolas. "You can be partnered with me. Now that we have even numbers we can play the game properly!" he explained, leading Legolas away.

Elladan stood there in silence, caught up in the joyous sight of elflings running through the forest, chasing after fireflies. Little flickering lights, glowing brightly through the darkness. Legolas' smile was the brightest of them all. It was such a peaceful sight to behold, warming Elladan's heart. Smiling to himself he contently found another tree to lean against, as he resumed his stargazing with sweet sound of elfling laughter filling the air around him.

* * *

When asked about it later, Elrohir would be able to recall how much Dorwinion he had consumed. Nor would be able to pinpoint the exact moment his senses had left him, leaving patches in his memory. It was as if it happened in the snap of a second, one moment he was fine and laughing merrily, the next he could not recall where he was.

Elrohir's head swam, faces of elves he did not recognize blurred around him, merging together in a plethora of colors. He looked around and could not make any sense of where he was. In his heavily intoxicated state almost all rational thought had fled his mind. All he knew was that he had to find Elladan. He tried to call out for his brother but his lips couldn't properly form the words, slurring together into a long unintelligent noise, speaking incomprehensible sounds.

His head felt so heavy, his muscles felt so weak. Bits of meaningless conversation swarmed around his consciousness. He had to find Elladan.

Elrohir swayed dangerously as he stood from his seat, grasping the table edge tightly. He made to take a step away from it, but was over come with a foreboding sense of vertigo falling unceremoniously onto ground.

"Looks like the Peredhil cannot handle his drink!" The sound of laughter surrounded him like the iron bars of a cage, trapping him within.

He felt a couple pairs of hands grab hold of him, lifting back onto his seat.

"Someone bring him some water."

Not ready to give up, Elrohir attempted to stand again, but was stopped as he felt a strong pair of hands pushing him down. Anger boiled within him. Why was he being held here? He needed to find Elladan.

"I'd stay seated if I were you," a voice filled with hot breath whispered into his ear. Elrohir twitched his head trying to rub his ear against his shoulder, not liking the sensation. And what was that, a threat? Was this elf threatening him?

Elrohir renewed his struggles.

"I said to stay seated." The hands forcefully held him down as his ear was once again intruded with the uncomfortable sensation of hot breath. Elrohir cringed, clenching his hands. He was frustrated by this elf's lack of understanding. Why wasn't he able to find Elladan?

Elrohir suddenly leaned all his weight onto the elf behind him, throwing him off balance. Elrohir threw his clenched hand towards the elf, landing a clean blow onto the side of his face. Both elves fell to the ground, bringing the table with them in a loud _clash_, as the suffocating drunken laughter once again surrounded him.

Elrohir scrambled to get up but found himself unable to as he was held down a couple pairs of hands.

"NO," he managed to slur out, thrashing wildly beneath his captors. "No…"

* * *

Legolas hugged Elladan tightly.

"Guess how many fireflies I caught?!" the elfling asked with a wide yawn.

"How many?" Elladan asked as he helped Legolas feed a slightly shivering arm through the sleeve of the formal robe.

"Seven!" Legolas chimed proudly.

"What a mighty feat!" Elladan praised. "Come my prince, let us find you a warm drink and seat by the fire. You'll warm up in no time," Elladan said, taking Legolas' hand.

Unknown to the pair, the elfling Legolas had been playing with had been hiding behind a large patch of bushes watching the exchange with great interest. He smiled to himself. He had guessed right, he had been playing with the Prince! Legolas had been fun to play with. He couldn't wait to see him again!

"Elladan, do you think we will see Ada? I want to tell him all about the new games I learned!"

"I am sure we well see your father. He isn't exactly hard to miss in a crowd."

Legolas giggled, "Ada is really sparkly tonight!"

"So are you," Elladan retorted. The royal family's formal robes were quite heavily embroidered.

* * *

Legolas sat atop Elladan's lap, warmed by the soft glow of the fire, with a mug of warm blueberry tea in hand. He licked his lips after taking a long sip. It was so delicious. He was definitely going to ask for more once he was finished!

Legolas looked up from his mug to see his father approaching.

"Ada! Ada! Guess what?" Legolas gleefully exclaimed as his father took a seat next to them.

"What, my leaf?"

"Elladan helped me play with elflings and I learned new games!"

"Come," Thranduil said, extending his arms out towards his son. Elladan handed Legolas off to his father, where Legolas snuggled comfortably in his father's lap, yawning. "You must tell me all about these games."

Thranduil frowned noticing Legolas' sleeve. "But first you must tell me why you have a Dorwinion stain on your sleeve."

"Its Noron's fault. He was trying to get me to dance and sing, but I didn't want to."

"I see," Thranduil grimily said, his eyes narrowed.

Thranduil looked over towards his nephew just in time to see him and Elrohir fall over a table bringing it clashing down with them. He was in a complete state of disbelief over what he just witnessed. Thankfully few elves around them paid little attention to the group of drunken warriors, obliviously continuing on with their joyous merrymaking under the stars.

In an instant Elladan was on his feet, rushing to his brother's aid.

"Get off him," Elladan shouted, pushing his way past the drunken soldiers, throwing Noron off his brother in the process. He smirked noticing the growing black eye on Noron's face, before turning to give his brother his full attention. Even in Elrohir's weakened state he could deal a fine blow.

Elladan knelt on the cold mossy ground leaning over his brother, softly stroking his flushed and slightly damp cheek.

"Why do you cry? He asked speaking softly in Sindarin, knowing the vast majority of the woodelves had no knowledge of the language.

Elrohir gasped before he mumbled something completely incomprehensible, his face only becoming damper.

"Oh Valar Elrohir, how much wine did you consume?" Elladan asked in a soothing tone, while stroking Elrohir's cheek. When he received no response he said, "Come, let me help you." Slowly, he pulled his brother up into a sitting position. Elladan gratefully accepted the glass of water that was offered to him, guiding the cool liquid to Elrohir's lips.

"Ada is Elrohir okay?" Elladan heard Legolas ask, as Thranduil approached the scene.

"Yes my leaf," Thranduil replied to his son, before turning to is nephew. "What happened here?" he asked Noron.

"He hit me, I was only trying to aid him, and he hit me!" Noron angrily slurred. "How dare he! I will not tolerate this disrespect."

"It was unintentional my Nephew. Do not make such a big deal out of small occurrences. Go on and enjoy the rest of the evening," Thranduil said, putting an end to the situation. Noron huffed as he walked away, flanked by his who were trying to calm him down. He was not willing to disobey his uncle at such a public occasion.

"Let us take Elrohir back to the palace," Thranduil suggested. "I was collecting Legolas to take him back. I have much to think about, and this little one is tired," he said, as Legolas yawned in his arms, resting his head on his father's warm shoulder.

Thranduil signaled Galion over, who though was under the influence of drink, still contained his wits, was more than able to help Elladan to bring Elrohir back to the palace. It was a long walk for they had to stop many times so Elrohir could collect himself. Both Elladan and Galion breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the palace finally came into view.

Together they laid Elrohir down in Elladan's bed, before Galion left to go rejoin the festivities, mumbling something about finally having a chance to dance with some elleth called Tauriel. Elladan removed Elrohir's boots and tunic, before climbing onto the bed next to him. He held his brother close, softly stroking his hair.

"I called for you, but you didn't come," Elrohir slurred.

"I am here now," Elladan said, holding his brother tightly.

"But for how long?" Elrohir asked before falling into a restless slumber.

* * *

_"It's all my fault, I'm so sorry brother. It's my fault," he said, leaning over his brother's prone lifeless body. His lips were blue, and he was cold to the touch, as if he were ice. His breathing was so shallow, barely noticeable. "Please come back to me. I need you. I cannot live without you," he choked through sobs. _

_Endless tears ran down his cheeks. There was an unbearable sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He felt numb. His brain was foggy and heavy in grief. He couldn't contain it all; it tore at his insides. It was too much. He could not comprehend his surroundings, but it didn't matter where he was anymore. Wherever his brother went, he would soon follow. His attention lay focused on his brother's pale lifeless face. He felt as though he couldn't breath, couldn't move. He was trapped – suffocating. He felt blood rushing to his ears. Dizzy, he was dizzy. Why was this happening? He felt nothing. Empty. _

_He wrapped his arms tightly himself and drew his knees up to his chest. He could find no comfort. There was no more light left in this world. It was hopeless. The shadows were swallowing him whole, finally claiming their long awaited prize. His brother was fading and it was his fault, his entire fault. He pushed his brother over the edge. He did this to him._

Elrohir awoke with a start. His heart was beating so fast he thought it would jump out of his chest. He breathed heavily in large burning gasps. He looked over to the spot next to him only to find it was empty. Elladan was not there. His heart slowly tore into pieces.

"Elladan," he weakly called out. "NO, no, not again Elladan!"

He brought his hands up to his chest in a feeble attempt to calm himself, feeling his wildly thumping heart. His mouth felt so dry. He was so thirsty, he couldn't remember ever feeling this thirsty before. His head was pounding. He felt as though he had been trampled on by a hoard of orcs. It hurt so much he felt dizzy. His face was damp with tears or sweat, he couldn't tell, perhaps both.

These visions were too much. He didn't know how much more of this he could bear. It was too much. Having to endure the torment of his worst fear not once but now twice, it was emotionally grating.

He slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position, leaning heavily on the headboard. On the bedside table he saw a large glass of water and a vile next to it with a note: _This will help._ After he downed both contents, Elrohir instantly felt physically better. His emotional state was still a questionable matter.

Slowly Elrohir pulled himself out of bed, messaging his brow. Soft light filtered into the room. It was nearing midday. Elrohir had little memory of the previous night. He paced the room, trying to recall anything, thinking of Elladan.

A strange surge of anger flared through him instead of that sad hopeless feeling. Something had snapped. He felt uncontrollably angry. If only Elladan would open their bond, all this could go away.

All this pent up rage and frustration welled up within, pushing to be released. He would have to make Elladan see reason. Elladan does not understand, the bond works two ways. Yes he would feel all of Elladan's pain, but in turn Elladan would feel his healing heart, which, with time would only ignite Elladan's own healing. Why couldn't his brother understand this? No, no more. This was going to end now, his brother was going to stop this foolishness, stop pushing him away. Stop running from his pain and except it.

He quickly changed into a pair of leggings, a tunic, fastening a belt carrying a few small throwing knives around his waist, before pulling a cloak on over himself. He was going to find Elladan. If he knew anything about his brother, he knew were to first look.

Elrohir fumed as he walked through the stone fortress towards the courtyard doors, trying to pull together thoughts of what he would say once he saw Elladan. In such an irrational state his thoughts were only laced with anger.

Elrohir briefly caught sight of the archery field. Legolas was practicing with his father. Thranduil was kneeling behind Legolas, helping pull the bow to full draw, while Legolas had a look of deep serious concentration on his face. The sight momentarily warmed his heart but did nothing to falter his temper.

He came upon Elladan, standing alone in the middle of the training grounds. His brother had a blunt sword in hand, fiercely going over his practice routine. Viscously swiping the air with movements he had long ago perfected.

Elladan turned once he heard his brother approaching. "Good morn Elrohir, or rather should I say Good afternoon? How are you faring?" He cheerfully called out.

Elrohir only glared has his twin, the cheerful attitude serving only to further anger him.

Elladan's expression dropped. "Are you still feeling unwell? Or perhaps your sleep was not as restful as I thought. Did you not sleep well?" he asked, with concern.

"No, I did not sleep well," Elrohir vexed, slowly pronouncing each syllable. "In fact I had another vision, the SAME vision."

"Brother, I have already told you, only in death will you cause me to fade," Elladan said nonchalantly. "Now enough of this nonsense. Why not come join me in some midday practice?" he suggested.

Elladan's carefree attitude only further fuel Elrohir's furry. "NO," Elrohir shouted. "What you are doing is nonsense. I will have no more of this."

"What do you mean?" Elladan asked in confusion.

"Do not play these games with me Elladan, you know exactly what I mean," Elrohir vexed, his heart beating wildly.

Elladan frowned. "Why do you take this tone with me? I have done nothing to deserve such treatment Elrohir."

The anger Elrohir felt was nearly suffocating him. "You closed off OUR bond," he spat, drunk with rage.

"Why must we go over this yet again, Elrohir? I have told you this on many occasions. I am doing this to protect you. Everything I do is to protect you. Why do you not understand?" Elladan asked sorrowfully, clearly hurt. "Please calm down brother, you are not seeing reason."

"I am calm, brother. Very calm," Elrohir said. "It is you who does not see reason. Can you not feel how closing our bond hurts? Or are you so broken that you no longer feel anything at all? You do not cry you rarely smile. You are hollow. "

"You can not mean that," Elladan whispered. The shock from Elrohir's words nearly tore through his defenses.

Elrohir continued, "Can you not see that closing our bond is emotionally destroying you? It has caused you to lose your senses in battle brother. For is that not how you were injured prior to our entry into Mirkwood?"

"You do not know of what you speak," Elladan said, his tone starting to match Elrohir's.

"I know plenty of what I speak," Elrohir claimed in outrage.

"NO, you do NOT," Elladan shouted. "I was injured protecting YOU. Your back was turned in battle, brother. If I had not jumped in the way, the blow to you would have been fatal. Then your vision would have come full circle."

"If you had not closed off our bond, that would have been unnecessary, Elladan, you know it," Elrohir countered with bitterness.

"No Elrohir, you are always so quick to anger, so quick to throw yourself into battle. You do not think, if your back had not been turned, it you had not jumped into battle without thinking then I would not have needed to do what I did. It has nothing to do with my choice to close off our bond. It is _your_ fault I was injured," he said in a rare show of hostility.

Elrohir froze, the pain of what Elladan had said hit him full force. It was his fault. It was all his fault.

"I-I only want to help you Elladan," Elrohir whispered.

"I do not need your help Elrohir, nor do I want it. You do not understand you cannot help me. Just leave me alone," Elladan cried out in anger, his eyes filled with fiery rage.

The look in Elladan's eyes nearly destroyed Elrohir. All he could do was stand there in shock. His gentle brother had never spoken such hurtful words to him before. Elrohir felt almost betrayed. He only wanted to help Elladan, to stop his nonsensical suffering.

When Elrohir made no move, Elladan shouted with rage, "LEAVE."

Elrohir tore his gaze away from Elladan's. His heart lay so heavy with grief, consuming his senses. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he turned away from Elladan and ran.

As Elladan watched his brother, he felt an instant pang of regret. It was then Elladan realized just how hurtful his words were.

"What have I done?" he whispered. He has never regretted anything more in his life. His words were merely spoken out of anger. In his heart he did not truly mean them. Why could Elrohir not understand that he was protecting him.

Elladan wished to go after Elrohir but he felt so weak. His legs would not carry him. He dropped the practice sword, and fell to his knees, hitting the hard ground. It was too much. He brought his hands up to his face, but still he could not weep. His eyes remained dry. As sad as he was, as much as he wished to, he could not cry. He sat there full of regret, in shock, before darkness quickly claimed him.

* * *

Elrohir ran. He just needed to get away, to think things over and clear his mind. Blinded by tears he ran towards the Southgate, straight into the darkness of the forest.

* * *

A pair of hands lightly shaking him, roused Elladan.

"Is he injured?"

"Why are his eyes closed?"

"I don't know."

"Quick, help me get him up."

Elladan opened his eyes to see three fully armed Silvan guards kneeling anxiously around him. Twinkling stars lit up the night sky.

"Are you alright My Lord?" one of them asked.

"What's going on? What happened?" Elladan asked, groggy, disoriented and slightly alarmed. The stars were out. It was already night?

"We were hoping you could tell us," one of them gravely said.

"Prince Legolas is missing."

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N:** I promise I will try to update very soon, I know I left a bit an evil cliffhanger. Feel free to leave a review! I'd love to hear what you guys think!

***Menelmacar:** (Quenya) also called _Telimektar_ (amongst other names) is Tolkien's version of the constellation Orion. (Orion the Hunter is a constellation only visible in the winter months in the Northern Hemisphere.) I'm not going to give a whole history on Menelmacar. Just google it if you're interested. ;)


	11. Out the Southgate

**Chapter 10 – Out The Southgate **

Legolas felt his father's warm arms circle around him as the King knelt behind his son. Strong arms steadied the elfling's shaky ones as together pulled the tiny bow back to full draw, a feat much too difficult for the elfling to accomplish on his own.

Legolas wore tiny arm guards with a delicate leaf pattern etched onto the soft leather, preventing the release of tension from the string to recoil and sting the tender insides of his tiny arms, an injury Legolas not unfamiliar with and unwillingly to obtain again.

"Are you ready?" his father asked.

"Almost Ada, I'm almost finished aiming," Legolas told him as he narrowed his eyes, adjusting his aim.

Thranduil lightly chuckled at the look of deep concentration on his son's face. It was endearing to see the elfling with such a serious expression. "I'll await your orders, my son," Thranduil said with a sort of patience one could only gain when parenting a young child.

Thranduil loved these moments he spent with Legolas. There was nothing he enjoyed more than these little archery lessons he shared with his son. It warmed his heart to see Legolas improve under his careful guidance, his fatherly pride shown brightly. Though unknown to Legolas, Thranduil could tell his elfling had quite the talent with the bow. Thranduil knew that with a little refinement Legolas' raw talent could be molded into something grand. Thranduil was selfish, when Legolas grew up to be a great archer, Thranduil wanted to be the one whom Legolas told everyone who taught him, not some random archery master.

Thranduil smiled. It was a beautiful day, the perfect way to spend the start of a New Year. After the festival of Elbereth the evenings would slowly start to become shorter as the days became longer. The forest would slowly start to warm again. A light layer of frost still covered the trees giving them a sort of sparkle when the light hit them just right. Thranduil looked at Legolas, he hoped his son was warm enough. Thranduil himself didn't feel these minuscule changes in the temperature, but he knew his elfling would.

"Ada, I am ready now," Legolas whispered, as if speaking loudly would ruin his aim. Together father and son released the arrow sending it flying through the air as it embedded itself within the target a couple centimeters away from the centre.

"Well done, Legolas!" Thranduil praised. "That is much closer than the last arrow."

Legolas beamed at his father's encouragement, grinning brightly, as if he were the very sun, warming Thranduil's heart.

"Ada, can we shoot another arrow?" Legolas eagerly asked.

"Alright," Thranduil agreed. "But this will be the last one for today. I have a council meeting to attend."

"Ada, there have been many council meetings lately," Legolas noted with a sigh.

"Aye, that is because there is a great need to have them," Thranduil simply replied as Legolas meticulously selected an arrow from his quiver, in an attempt to further stretch out the time spent with his father.

After the perfect arrow was chosen, together they nocked it and pulled the bow back to full draw. Thranduil waited patiently for Legolas to take aim. After a couple moments of shear concentration Legolas was prepared. Father and son released the tension on the bow together, sending the arrow flying through the air. This time it landed perfectly in the centre of the target.

"Excellent, My Son!" Thranduil praised, as he lifted Legolas in the air, spinning him around, eliciting giggles of pure mirth from the elfling. "Next time we will move the target to a closer range so you can shoot by yourself."

Legolas hugged his father in excitement and kissed his cheek. Thranduil smiled.

The Elvenking looked up towards the sky, noting the sun's position. "It is just after midday," he remarked. "I must set off now. It would be embarrassing to arrive late to a council meeting I had requested," Thranduil stated. "Can I trust you Legolas, to safely put away your bow and quiver?"

"Yes Ada!" Legolas said, excited that his father was willing to trust him with such an important task. "But first Ada, I must collect my arrows."

"Aright, you may do that first," Thranduil agreed. "Then you must put your bow and quiver directly away, remember what I told you?"

"That my bow is a weapon not a toy," Legolas dutifully replied.

Thranduil smiled. "You are becoming very responsible. I am very proud Legolas," he said, before kissing his son's forehead.

"Have fun at your council meeting, Ada!" Legolas said waving, as he watched his father walk away.

Thranduil would have loved nothing more than to spend the rest of the day playing with Legolas. The first day of the New Year was a day of rest for most of the elves. But Thranduil was the King, and no matter how much he wished he sometimes could, one cannot take a break from responsibility. He had the safety of his people to protect.

Legolas merrily skipped as he made his way over to the target. He decided he would collect the arrows scattered on the ground first, before attempting to pull out the ones lodged in the target. Those ones were much more difficult to collect.

Some of the arrows had flown wide landing in the bushes between the trees, so Legolas determined he would check there first. He crawled on his hands and knees in search of his wayward arrows. Finally after some time and torn left knee on his legging later he had managed to find them all. Now he had only to pull the other ones out from on the target.

Legolas selected the lowest arrow first; gripping it firmly with both hands he used a leg to push himself off from the tree. But the arrow would not come loose. Legolas groaned in frustration. His father had told him it was poor etiquette to abandon arrows in the target at the archery range. It would only leave work for someone else that wished to practice after him. Part of practicing was having the ability to clean up after yourself.

Legolas sighed; he would just have to find someone to help him. Making sure his quiver was adjusted just right over his right shoulder and under his left arm, he left the training field, his bow griped firmly in hand.

Legolas wandered through the palace grounds. He was just about to stop and ask a group of guards that were standing around and talking, to help him, when he spotted Elrohir running. Legolas grinned; Elrohir was finally out of bed! He surreptitiously followed and nervously gulped when he saw Elrohir run out the Southgate.

Legolas stopped right at the gate boundary. He so badly wanted to follow Elrohir, but his father had always cautioned him against leaving through the Southgate. Towards the south, the forest got progressively darker; Legolas was not allowed to go there, even under supervision. The elfling was both curious and scared of what lay towards the mysterious south.

But Legolas knew that Elrohir was a very brave and strong warrior. He was a hero who travelled saving villages, so Legolas reasoned he would be safe as long as he stuck close to Elrohir. And, this would give him the perfect chance to track Elrohir. Legolas remembered what Elrohir had told him yesterday morning in is mother's garden; '_You'll have to try a lot hard than that the sneak up on me little one.'_ Legolas never backed down from a challenge. He couldn't wait to see the look on Elrohir's face after he'd discover that he'd been followed and caught off guard, losing the game. Legolas put his hands over him mouth to smother a fit laughter. He had to be quiet; Legolas knew that if anyone saw him leaving through the Southgate they would surely stop him.

Legolas' stomach fluttered with anticipation and excitement. Taking a deep breath, he took his first step out into the darkness of the forest. The arrows in the target, lay left forgotten.

* * *

Elrohir didn't have a clue as to where he was going. He just needed to be alone. He just needed to think things through. A surge of regret shot through his heart. He said some really cruel things to Elladan. What a disaster. The torment of his vision lay heavy on his mind. He just wanted to help, and now he feared he only made things worse.

As much as he wanted to, Elrohir could not bring himself to turn around and go back. He felt like such a coward, afraid to face is brother, his twin, his other half. He just felt like running, he had to put as much distance between himself and his problems as he could. It's always easier to run away and hide from your fears rather than stand strong and face them. Elrohir could not find the courage within him to do so.

His running slowed to a walking pace as the sun set behind the horizon and the stars shown brightly over head. He looked up and found Eärendil but could not find his usual comfort by its presence. He felt ashamed to even be seen under the star. His family was filled with great warriors and heroes of old, whose deeds of great valor and heroism were greatly honored and remembered. What shame he must bring upon his family. What a pathetic sight he must be, a coward, a frightened half-elf with tear tracts staining his face.

Physically and emotionally exhausted Elrohir sank to his knees and sat there, crying into his hands. Could Elladan ever forgive him? Could he ever forgive himself? Thranduil spoke of hope, but he could not see it.

* * *

Legolas had quickly lost sight of Elrohir, but his sharp eyes made out the faint trace of a lightly imprinted boot on the soft frost covered ground. Whenever the time could be spared, Noron would take Legolas out into the forest and teach him about all the different animal tracks. Together they even made up a song about all the different animals and their footprints. The elfling could proudly tell the difference between various forest animals. So, Legolas determined this was no animal print, it had to have come from Elrohir! _Noron is going to be so proud,_ Legolas thought as he eagerly followed them with a bright smile of excitement etched across his face, so completely excited by prospect of surprising Elrohir.

Elrohir had made long strides, weaving erratically through the trees. Each print had been spaced far apart. Legolas decided to make a game out of it; he tried his best to jump from footprint to footprint without stepping outside the boundary, pretending the ground was a river that would sweep him away if he did so. Legolas laughed as he sung his footprint song in joy.

As the day wore on, in a moment of shear luck Legolas spied two identical sticks just to the left of his path, they were the perfect sword length for an elfling of his size. Legolas beamed, what a wonderful day this was turning out to be! Forgetting all about the imaginary river, Legolas eagerly retrieved his prize. He grasped them firmly, one in each hand, pretending they were a pair of twin knives. Legolas felt much braver holding them. He was now a great warrior, exploring the dark unknowns of the forest, with two twin knives in hand, and a bow and quiver strapped to his back, he was undefeatable.

Legolas thought he heard a twig snap, instantly stopping in his tracks. His eyes quickly scanned the trees, searching his surroundings, when he spotted _it_, a little ways off to his left. His eyes widened. It was the spider plant! The plant's true name was too long for Legolas to remember, but Rudiel had told him that the juices from the leaves was the main ingredient for the antidote used against the spider poison. This plant was quite rare.

Legolas smiled upon his good fortune. He crouched down low and plucked off a couple leaves, carefully storing them in his pocket. Legolas had been taught never to take the whole plant. Only the leaves were needed. If the plant were to be left alive, then it could rejuvenate, and continue on living, eventually growing more leaves that they could later harvest. Legolas liked this idea; it was senseless to kill anything for no reason, even a plant. Legolas gingerly patted the outsides of his now filled pockets. Both his father and Rudiel were going to be so proud of him!

Legolas continued on swinging his twin knives back and forth, to the left and to the right, slashing and cutting down imaginary foes, when his foot caught on a tree root and inadvertently sent him tumbling to the ground. Legolas sniffled as he held his knee in pain. It was scraped, it stung, and bleeding a little bit. There was a very large hole in the right knee of his legging. Legolas examined it sadly. Lealle wasn't going to be happy. She made all of his clothes, and now she would only have more work to do in repairing it. Legolas really liked Lealle and hated it when she was disappointed in him.

Legolas sat there for a bit crying softly in self-pity. He really wanted is father. His father always made him feel better when he was hurt. But his father wasn't here. He was all alone. Legolas sniffled. He hoped he would find Elrohir soon. It was starting to get late and his stomach rumbled in hunger.

Legolas tenderly got to his feet, feeling dejected he followed the footprints in silence. His previous excitement had left him. Maybe when he found Elrohir, he could convince him to give him a ride on his shoulders, that would make him feel better.

His stomach grumbled and his legs felt tired from all the previous jumping. Walking through the forest was very lonesome when you had no one to talk to and no one's hand to hold. It was at this moment Legolas realized just how quite the forest was. It felt so dark an empty. Although the trees lay asleep during winter there should still be a hum or a light melody resonating from them. But to his confusion, Legolas heard nothing.

Legolas rested his hand on the nearest tree. The bark felt rough and cold to his touch, nothing like the trees around the palace. It was strange, the tree was definitely alive but there is no song, no voice. There was nothing. Legolas shivered. The forest was eerily quiet. Now that he thought about it, Legolas couldn't recall seeing a single animal or hearing single bird. The forest around his home was filled with such life, for his father was a friend to all the animals of the forest, here the forest was simply hollow. There was nothing.

A cold chill blew through the air, making the little hairs on Legolas' neck stand straight out. He didn't like the feeling of the forest. This wasn't fun anymore. He just wanted to find Elrohir so they could walk back home together. Where was Elrohir? Legolas was now starting to second-guess his first instinct. Maybe these weren't Elrohir's footprints. But if they were not, then whose were they?

Legolas looked up at the sky, the sun was setting behind the trees it was starting to get dark, and the air was becoming thick with fog. A sense of fear gripped his heart. He did not want to be out here when it turned to night not when the trees didn't sing, and everything around him felt cold and empty. Legolas' heart sped up as he nervously looked around. He couldn't shake the feeling the something was terribly wrong.

He subconsciously reached for the leaf pendant around his neck. The familiar feel of the smooth emerald stone offered a small comfort to the weary and now frightened elfling. Legolas chocked back a sob. He wanted his father. He just wanted to feel safe in his father's arms again.

Legolas was about to abandon his quest of looking for Elrohir when his sharp earing picked up a faint noise. It sounded like someone was crying. Legolas cautiously made his way around a bend of trees and gasped. He was both relieved and surprised at what he saw.

Elrohir was kneeling on the cold forest floor with his back turned towards Legolas. From where Legolas stood hidden behind the trees, he could see Elrohir's body tremble with every heart wrenching sob. Legolas' tiny heart went out to Elrohir. Why was Elrohir crying? Maybe he was afraid of the forest too?

Legolas wisely judged that now might not be a good time to jump out and scare Elrohir. Legolas knew that when he was sad he wanted to be comforted not startled. Although Elrohir was a great warrior, Legolas thought that he might feel the same way.

Legolas was just about to make his presence known when the little hairs on the back of his neck stood up again. It didn't feel right, something was wrong. They were not alone. He was not the only one drawn to Elrohir's cries. Dangling there right above Elrohir was a huge black monster, Legolas gasped as he counted eight eyes and eight legs on its large plump black furry body.

A spider.

Legolas froze in shear terror. It was one of the monsters from his nightmares. Before he could even sound out a call of warning to Elrohir, the beast dropped from where it was perched on the tree above, slamming Elrohir hard into the ground.

Legolas stood there paralyzed in fear, gripping his pendant so tightly it left a deep leaf imprint on the inside of his hand. His body trembled and silent tears ran down his cheeks. He heard Elrohir cry out in pain but he was too scared to move. He could do nothing but helplessly watch as Elrohir struggled against the spider. Legolas was desperate, the fear was almost too must for him. He felt dizzy.

It was second cry of pain from Elrohir that snapped Legolas to his senses. Before he was even aware of what he was doing he had his bow gripped tightly in his clammy shaking hands, and an arrow knocked and ready to go. When thinking about the turn of events later, Legolas could not recall having any conscious thought about what he was doing. It was thought that his subconscious desire to save Elrohir fueled his actions, for Legolas moved purely on instinct well beyond his years, as he sent the arrow flying through the air.

The arrow impacted the spider and bounced right off it, landing somewhere in the shrubbery. If Legolas had been a little bit stronger it would have been a shot to kill. Though the arrow didn't go into the spider, it was enough to momentarily distract the beast from its prey as it turned its attention on to the elfling, giving Elrohir just enough time to grab a knife he wore on his belt, and fiercely slash the spider clean open, in one shift movement, rendering it motionless.

Before Elrohir even knew what happened he was once again caught unaware, finding himself holding an elfling who was crying loudly into his shoulder. Elrohir was too shocked by the turn of events to say anything. He just pulled Legolas close him and enclosed his arms around the elfling's trembling body. Where did Legolas come from? What was he doing here so far away from home?

They held onto each other tightly, comforted by each other's presence. The familiar stars twinkled in the night sky, the only source of light, breaking through the shadows of the dark forest. Finally Elrohir was able to regain some form of composure and found his voice.

"Legolas, you saved me," Elrohir whispered. "Thank you."

Legolas looked up into Elrohir's eyes. "But my arrow bounced off of it. I was not strong enough."

"That matters not, you acted quickly and gave me the chance to draw my knife," Elrohir replied as he held the elfling at arms length, his eyes quickly scanning over Legolas, assessing him for any injury. "You will make a fine warrior one day," he remarked.

Legolas threw his arms back around Elrohir, his body still trembling in the after shock. "Now we are even," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of Elrohir's shoulder.

Elrohir looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"When we first met you saved me from a spider," Legolas explained, referring to the tiny spider in his father's sitting room.

Elrohir could only nod in response. _We will never be even_, he thought, _I owe you my life_. Legolas didn't understand the true gravity of what he had done. Perhaps when Legolas is older Elrohir would explain it to him. Elrohir had found himself completely helpless beneath the spider, pinned down and unable to reach his knife. At that moment he couldn't recall ever feeling that terrified at the hands of a foe. He truly thought he was at his end, for that brief moment he was ready to accept defeat.

"Elrohir, can you take me home now?" Legolas asked.

"Come on, let's go," Elrohir smiled.

Legolas stood up and went to retrieve his bow, he was extra careful to avoid looking at the spider. The creature still scared him. Legolas vowed would never be terrified of the tiny spiders again, now that he knew how much worse they could truly be.

As Elrohir was brought back down from his adrenaline high, he slowly became aware of how much physical pain he was actually in. His right arm burned fiercely and with every breath he took, a sharp pain soared through his chest, spreading across his upper body. He was sure he either cracked or at least bruised a couple ribs from when the spider fell on him.

As Elrohir stood up, a wave of dizziness hit him so hard his breath caught in his chest. He struggled to remain standing as he fought to regain control. It was then he realized couldn't move his right arm. He couldn't feel it. The pain was suddenly gone but so was the sensation that his arm was even there. Elrohir panicked, he couldn't move his right arm? Was he bitten? He couldn't remember, but then again, everything was moving so fast, he couldn't recall what exactly had transpired when the spider attacked.

Elrohir looked down towards his right arm. Sure enough the sleeve of his tunic was damp and sticky with blood. Aye so the spider had managed to bite him. Elrohir rapidly blinked his eyes, struggling to keep them open as he sank to the ground, slowly feeling the gradual loss of movement as the paralysis took control.

"L-Legolas," he stammered, almost breathless.

"Elrohir, Elrohir, what's wrong?" Legolas called out, forgetting about his bow, as he ran to Elrohir's aid. "Elrohir?"

"The spider bit m-me," Elrohir weakly murmured before his eyes closed as his world faded_._

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N:** I was going to leave another horrible cliffhanger, but I decided I'd be nice and break the chapter here (trust me, this is being nice). Anyways, please let me know what you thought. How was the spider attack scene? Was it suspenseful or scary? I'm trying to improve the tone of my writing.

I'd just like to say, thank you everyone who has reviewed this story. You guys are awesome! I'll try to have the next chapter up soon for everyone. There is going to be a lot of detail going into it. If I rush it, things tend to get sloppy.


	12. Fractured Light

**Chapter 11 – Fractured Light **

"E-Elrohir?" Legolas murmered, timidly touching the older elf's arm. He gasped when he felt his hand become wet and sticky with blood.

"E-Elrohir w-wake up," Legolas cried, shaking Elrohir a little more forcefully. He panicked. Elrohir was bleeding and hurt. Usually when he got hurt Rudiel would softly clean his injury before carefully wrapping it in a white cloth, kissing in better. Legolas' didn't have any white cloths to wrap Elrohir's arm in.

Elrohir had said the spider bit him. Did that mean he was poisoned? Usually when warriors were brought to the healers after being poisoned they were given something made from the spider plant. Legolas didn't know what to do; he didn't have any of these things with him. Tears welled in his eyes. Nothing was worse than seeing someone you care about hurt and being unable to help them. Legolas trembled at the thought. Then he remembered;

_The spider plant leaves!_

His pocket was filled with leaves from the rare plant.

"Elrohir, Elrohir wake up, wake up," Legolas shouted as he shook Elrohir's arm. "Elrohir, you have to eat these. Please wake up."

But Elrohir was unresponsive, lying there with his eyes tightly closed. Thinking quickly, Legolas held a thick leaf above Elrohir's mouth and squeezed it so the precious juices fell onto his tongue. Legolas wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do, but he reasoned it was better than doing nothing.

Carefully the elfling rolled on the sleeve to Elrohir's tunic, he gasped at the sight of Elrohir's arm. It was all purple and swollen around two deep looking puncture marks. Eyes watering, Legolas quickly squeezed the juices from another leaf into the open puncture marks.

"I am sorry that I do not have any white cloths," he whispered, before rolling the sleeve back down.

Satisfied with his work he sat there and watched Elrohir for a couple minutes. Willing him to wake up. Night had come, the forest around him was dark. Not just by the lack of light, but he could feel something else around, an ill presence. Legolas panicked, grasping Elrohir's limp hand. It was so cold.

He didn't understand, he gave Elrohir the spider plant, but he wasn't waking up. Finally his tears flowed freely as Legolas leaned against Elrohir's uninjured arm, sobbing loudly into Elrohir's tunic. Legolas had never felt this helpless and this alone before. He wanted his father so badly. He felt so exhausted and scared.

A cold breeze tore through the air, giving Legolas the terrible feeling of being watched. He turned and was met with a pair of big yellow eyes; he could see his own terror through them reflecting back him, as he was met with a gurgling laugh.

* * *

Thranduil was beside himself with worry. This could not be happening. He felt as though his heart had been ripped out and crushed right in front of him. His Legolas, his precious Legolas was missing. And he was apparently the last one to see the elfling. Legolas arrows had been found still lodged within the target from their practice earlier that day. That would mean that Legolas hadn't been seen by anyone since midday, hours ago.

The entire palace had been searched clean, thrice over. Word had been sent out to the nearest villages. There was no sign of the elfling anywhere. Legolas was far too light and far too careful for his own good. No one would be able to find the elfling if Legolas did not wish to be seen. Thranduil had asked the birds for their help, the owls, having the keenest eyes in the dark. They were currently out scouring the forest, but he had not heard from them yet. Things were looking grim.

It did not help Thranduil's nerves that he had just concluded an extremely long meeting discussing the recent sighting of orcs. They had been spotted off to the south. Plans had been put in place to ride out at first daylight.

Using all his mental strength he willed himself to remain calm. It would do Legolas no good if he were to panic. To panic would only lead to hasty decisions and overlooked details.

Thranduil quickly stole a glance over at Elladan, the twin was not faring any better. Elladan was seated and visibly shaken. Elrohir was missing too. Elladan held such sorrowful expression on his face, and the look in his eyes, what was it? Guilt? Thranduil would ponder on the meaning of it later. He just wanted his son back.

Thranduil saw Elladan jump as the doors to the council room suddenly opened, followed by a breathless guard.

"Your Majesty, we found some tracks leading away, out from the southern gate."

Thranduil paled.

"It is odd," the guard continued. "No elf would leave such a trail."

"Elrohir!" Elladan exclaimed, as almost every warrior in the room shot him a look of deep dismay. "But Elrohir would never lead Legolas into danger," Elladan defended, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Aye, that may be true, but since Legolas is nowhere to been seen, we can deduce that Legolas followed him, whether Elrohir was aware of it or not," Thranduil replied. "If Legolas was anywhere near here he would have been found by now. He is not one to miss dinner. Everyone gather your weapons we leave in five minutes."

The council room scrambled with activity as elves made their preparations.

Elladan felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and was met with Thranduil's worried expression. "Are you able to join us," he asked.

Elladan nodded.

"Good," Thranduil said. "Orcs were spotted off to the south, gather your weapons. We will meet in front of the Southgate."

Elladan's breath caught, his heart thumped wildly. Orcs? His eyes darkened at he prospect of a hunt, as he went off to his fetch his sword. He crossed by Elrohir's room, glancing in. A surge of panic stormed through him, Elrohir's sword leaning against the wall. Elrohir was weaponless. His worry and guilt increased tenfold. His words drove his brother away. This was his entire fault. Only if he had sat down and humored Elrohir's worries, none of this would have happened.

* * *

The air around Legolas felt heavy. He gripped tightly onto Elrohir's limp hand, his eyes not once leaving the big yellow ones. Four of the strangest looking creatures surrounded him.

"What have we here?" one of the creatures grumbled. Legolas' recognized the creature's words as Westron, common speech. He searched his memory for their meaning. He had been taught the language but rarely used it.

"Looks to me like a lost little elf," another one of them taunted. "So far from home."

Legolas gulped, desperately renewing his attempt to shake Elrohir awake. Something felt wrong about these creatures.

"And what's this, another elf. Looks like one of Shelob's kin got to it."

"M-my friend is hurt," Legolas managed to stammer.

The creature laughed, a loud gurgling sound.

"I-I need to get him h-home to my Ada," Legolas explained. "B-but I cannot lift him."

"And who is your Ada, little elf?" the creature asked.

Legolas furrowed his brow. These creatures did not know? He thought it common knowledge that everyone knew who the King of Mirkwood was. "King Thranduil," Legolas said.

A wicked smile stretched across the creature's face. "Did you here that Grog? It says its father is Thranduil. I wasn't aware that Elf King spawned any children."

"Oh ho, this will be mighty gift for our Lord."

"Perhaps he will let us keep the other one as a reward. We have not had a proper play thing since that she-elf in the mountains."

Legolas paid little attention to what the creatures spoke of, only understanding half of what they said anyways. He focused all his attention onto Elrohir. He did not understand it, why wasn't Elrohir waking up?

Trembling, Legolas put his hands over his ears as the creatures confided amongst themselves in their dark language.

"All right little elf," one of them spoke. "We have decided to help you."

"Really?" Legolas asked feeling a little relieved.

"Yes, follow us child, we will lead you home," the orc said in a tauntingly sweet voice.

Legolas hesitated as one of the creatures lifted Elrohir off the ground, throwing him unceremoniously over his shoulder. His instinct was screaming at him not to follow. But what could he do? They did say they would take him home.

Hesitantly he got up and made to follow. He clasped his leaf pendant tightly, as they lead him unknowingly deeper into the shadows.

* * *

Thranduil, Elladan and two patrol units lead by his Commander and Noron, closely followed Elrohir's fading footprints. They traversed through forest by foot, not having the heart to lead horses into such darkness. There were few horses in Mirkwood. The looming shadows of the forest spooked the poor creatures; it took a great amount of training to get the animals accustomed to such and environment. But there was no loss; the forest was thick, entwined with close growing trees. It was easier for the elves to move on by foot and not by the restraints of an animal.

Elladan tried to remain calm as he followed Thranduil's lead. But he could not shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong with Elrohir. He couldn't explain it, for he would not reopen their bond, he could just sense something was amiss. The anxiety was overwhelming. He wondered how Thranduil could appear to calm.

He saw all the elves around him tense as they ran on deeper in the forest, for once he was thankful he could not sense the trees or feel the darkness creeping around them.

"Be on your guard," Thranduil called to him. "Spiders are known to roam this area, amongst other dark things."

* * *

Legolas' legs were becoming very sore and very tired from all the walking. He whimpered and looked down. The ground was hard and cold, hurting the souls of his feet. It was not soft and warm like he was used to. This set off red flags in the elfling's mind. Any form of trust these strange creatures may have gotten from him was lost. This was not the way home. They lied to him. They were not taking him home.

Legolas stopped in his tracks and defiantly crossed his arms.

"Move along little elf," one of the creatures said as it nudged him, causing Legolas to stumble.

"No," Legolas said. "Take me home."

"We are." Came a gruff reply.

"No you are not," Legolas pouted, his eyes narrowing. "This ground hurts my feet. The ground at home does no hurt my feet. You lied to me."

"We said we would take you home, we did not say to whose home."

"Is there a problem?" The leader shouted, approaching the pair.

"The elf-child will not move."

"Then we'll just have to make him," the leader said.

"_Gin ú-heron_," Legolas spat, glaring defiantly at the creatures. (_I don't like you_)

"You will not speak that language, do you hear me?" the creature shouted.

Legolas shrank back in fear as the leader towered over him. Legolas swallowed, his throat felt dry. He was so thirsty. His breathing sped up as he became more panicked by the second.

Legolas felt a tightening in his neck as the creature lifted him off his feet by the hem of his tunic. He thrashed wildly about as his limbs dangled helplessly in the air. Legolas whimpered as the orc shook him, his eyes filling with tears of fear.

And that is when he saw _it_. It seemed almost out of place on such unkempt creatures. A star shaped item was plastered onto the orc, caked with mud and dirt. If not for the keen eyes of an elf, the item would have been missed. It seemed oddly familiar, yet he could not understand why.

"You will do as we say or your friend over here will pay the price," the orc threatened.

Legolas caught sight of Elrohir who was still unconsciously slumped over the shoulder of another creature, and nodded.

"Good"

In a split second decision, Legolas grabbed hold of the star shaped item that was plastered onto the orc, the movement went unnoticed by the creature. Legolas tore the star off and pocketed the item, before he was thrown harshly to the ground, landing painfully on his side.

Pain filled tears escaped Legolas' eyes.

"Now, get up and MOVE along," the creature shouted, as Legolas lay there, frozen in terror.

The creature grabbed Legolas by his wrist. "I said GET UP."

Legolas screamed in pure agony as a searing sharp aching pain climbed up his arm. Legolas had never felt such pain before, it as unbearable for the elfling. The last thing Legolas heard before he blacked out was rumbling gurgling laugh.

* * *

"Uncle, we found something," Noron called out from ahead.

"What is it?" the Elvenking asked.

"A felled spider," he remarked, pulling a blade out from the creature's body. While another elf examined the spider more closely.

"I cannot make out the script on the blade," Noron said, handing it to Thranduil.

"That is because it is engraved in Quenya," Thranduil replied. "I believe this is Elrohir's."

"Aye," Elladan confirmed. "Father made it for him."

"Your Majesty," another elf called out.

Thranduil turned towards the voice, his eyes widening. "No," he whispered. The elf had in his hands a small bow and quiver. "Legolas."

Elladan searched the parameter for any sign of where they could have gone. He found an arrow caught in some bushes, before he saw on the ground, something he knew all two well.

"Orcs," he spat. "They were captured by orcs."

Thranduil looked as if he were about to be sick, holding on to Noron for support.

Anger flared through Elladan. Elrohir was captured by orcs. He was all too familiar with the cruelness of orcs. He would not let them hurt Elrohir like did his mother. He would not let those vile creatures lay hand on Elrohir. They would not take his brother away from him.

With newfound haste they followed the orc's trail.

In the forest of Mirkwood, the speed of elves was second to none, though the forest was filled with shadow many knew the lands for what they once had been and could easily maneuver through the trees.

Their confidence was lost when they came upon a rock outcrop; the trail was gone.

The group cried out in mixed despair and anger. Thranduil cursed violently in Quenya, his composure slowly folding. His only weakness, his son, in the hands of his enemy.

Elladan felt dizzy. Was his brother truly lost? Then he heard it, a voice in his mind, a voice that was not his own calling out to him, _Elladan, where are you? I need you._

Elladan could not explain how, he could just tell. Though there was no logical motive he knew the direction they had to go. He could sense his brother's presence.

"Follow me," he called out, running ahead. Without hesitation Thranduil was at his side, leaving the group of Silvan elves standing there in surprise before they blindly followed their King.

* * *

When Elrohir came to, it was to the sound of a soft crying. His head swam in confusion. Where was he? What happened? Feeling had returned to his body, he wished it hadn't. He felt weak and lethargic. And he hurt. He hurt so much.

There was that sound again, crying.

_Legolas_

"Legolas," he called out, he cringed. His voice sounded weak and raspy to his own ears.

He heard a sniffle. "E-Elrohir?"

"Aye, tis me. Legolas, where are you?" he asked in a weak whisper.

"I w-want A-Ada," came the sobbed reply.

"I know, I know, shhh," Elrohir said, trying his best to make his voice sound comforting. "I need to know what happened."

"T-he m-monsters took us t-to a c-cave."

_Monsters? Spiders? No that can't be right, _Elrohir thought in a daze, as he struggled to pull himself up, leaning rather heavily against the rough cave wall. He took in their surroundings. Looks like they were trapped. Elrohir doubt if he'd be able to move, let alone stand up and walk. That's probably why his hands were unbound.

"Legolas, are you able to move?" Elrohir softly asked. "I need you to come to me."

He heard the elfling sob, as he slowly made his way over. Elrohir felt the elfling's warm body hit him, leaning into him with a whimper. Elrohir painfully lifted Legolas onto his lap, hoping it would help calm the frightened child.

He closed his eyes from the exertion of energy. "Are you injured?" he asked.

"Y-yes," came the sobbed reply. "M-my a-arm."

"Can I see?" he asked. "I promise I will cause you no further harm."

Legolas trustingly held out his arm. True to his word, Elrohir's touch was feather light, causing the elfling no pain. He probed the wrist. He found the bone was cracked and prayed a silent prayer of thanks to Valar that he would not have to set the bone, a small mercy. Elrohir ran his fingers down Legolas' arms, chest, and legs, finding only bruising. The elfling's arm was the worst of his injuries.

Elrohir felt so helpless. This was his fault. If he had not had been careless and brash like Elladan had said, if he had not gone running into the forest, Legolas would not have followed and all this would not have happened. He always ran ahead without ever thinking of the consequences. He was not alert and was not paying attention to his surroundings when he should have been. Valar, he did not bring a weapon. It was his fault Legolas was in pain. His fault Legolas was scared. Now his first and only priority was to ensure Legolas' safety. Nothing else mattered.

He was frustrated and angry with himself. His gift of foresight was useless. Why couldn't he foresee this? This would have been more useful than repeated visions his brother dying. Visions that he was helpless to do anything about. He wished he had a stronger gift of healing. Maybe then he could have helped his brother, prevented all this.

In his thoughts, Elrohir came to only one conclusion. "Legolas," he whispered. "I'll take all your pain away." He had little strength left, but would do anything to stop the unnatural sounds of pain coming from that tiny elfling in his arms.

Legolas looked up and felt Elrohir gently place both of his hands over his wrist. Slowly the pain lessened. His arm was still sore but it didn't hurt as much as it did before.

"I am sorry, that is all I am able to do," Elrohir whispered, stroking Legolas' hair with a trembling hand.

"Thank you," Legolas whispered. "Elrohir I am scared. I do not like those monsters."

"I know," Elrohir soothed. "But I am sure your father is out searching for you," he said weakly.

"And Elladan is searching for you," Legolas replied.

"Perhaps."

Elrohir closed his eyes, overcome with dizziness. He felt weak, light-headed, and sick. He knew he would not last. He controlled his breathing, willing himself to stay conscious. It was his job to watch over Legolas, he would not fail. Elladan had refused to open their bond, Elrohir had realized that he would have to face it sooner or later, he was alone.

"Are you alright Elrohir?" Legolas asked.

"At the moment I am very weak," Elrohir replied as his body started to tremble.

"Would you like to hold my leaf with me?" Legolas asked, offering his pendant out to Elrohir. "Ada says that _When the memory of fear and darkness trouble you, this bring you aid."_

"Then you should hold onto it tightly for the both of us," Elrohir suggested. He blinked rapidly, desperately struggling to keep in eyes open.

His body stiffened. He heard two pairs of approaching footsteps.

_Orcs _

He was vulnerable, utterly defenceless.

"I thought I heard some noise, so the poisoned one is awake," one of the orcs called, while the other reached out and roughly grabbing hold of Legolas, easily ripping him away from Elrohir's gentle grasp.

"No, do not touch him," Elrohir helplessly shouted.

The orc only laughed. "My, my," it said, kneeling down to lift Elrohir's chin with a vile hand. "You will be fun to break."

Elrohir felt a burning sensation across his face as the orc cut a thin line down his cheek with a sharp nail.

To weak to move Elrohir could only glare, his eyes ablaze filled with deep hatred.

"Come on Grog," the orc said, as it punched Elrohir in the gut, winding him. "Let us have some fun with the elf child before we set out."

Elrohir moaned and gasped in protest as he saw orc called Grog drag Legolas away. Elrohir had never hated himself more than he did at that moment. He knew this was indirectly his fault. _Legolas, I am so sorry_, he thought. _Elladan, where are you? I need you. _

The orc roughly handled Legolas as the elfling sobbed in fear. Legolas closed his eyes and clutched his pendant tightly with both hands. This time it offered him no comfort. He was trapped; a jewel could not save him.

Legolas tumbled roughly to the ground; new bruises were created as the orc released its tight hold on him. Legolas slowly opened his eyes only to find himself surrounded by at least 30 loathsome creatures. He curled himself into a ball trying to make himself as small as he felt. It was dark out that night. The stars could not be seen, the moon lay behind a blanket of clouds.

"What is this?" one of the creatures asked, seeing the elfling clutch at something that lay around his neck. It reached for the object, pulling it out of Legolas' grasp.

"M-my l-leaf," Legolas answered, frozen in fear.

A horrid sound came from the orcs mouth as it laughed. "No, it is _my_ leaf. I think I deserve a small token for capturing the son of our greatest enemy."

"B-but it w-was N-nana's," Legolas helplessly sobbed as the pendant was torn from his neck. He weakly made to reach for it, but his hands were only kicked away. He felt so empty without it around him.

Legolas' lip trembled as the creature held it high in above him.

"If you want it, come as claim it," the orc said, swinging the precious object back and forth.

Legolas stood on shaky legs. He reached up for it, only for the creature to lift it higher out of his reach. The creature laughed as it played this game. It would lower the pendant only to lift it higher when Legolas jumped for it.

The circle of orcs surrounding them only laughed at the elfling's humiliation.

"Hey Zluk, catch," Grog said, throwing the pendant to his brother. Legolas' whimpered. "Go on elf, it you want it back, go claim it."

Legolas ran to the other creature, and jumped up for it, only to have it lifted higher out of his reach. Tears ran fresh down his cheeks. He felt so hopeless. His only connection to his mother lay in the hands of this ignoble creature.

"Grog, catch," Zluk shouted, throwing it back to his older brother. Legolas ran back and forth as the creatures ruthlessly teased him in the most merciless way possible.

The pendant landed once again in Grog's unworthy hands. The creature teasingly held it before the elfling.

"P-please return my l-leaf," Legolas sobbed.

"The little elf wants its prize," Grog shouted to the group of orcs as they cheered in jest.

The orc held the thin emerald stone high above for all to see. "I say we shall let him have it," the orc said, as he grasped the emerald tightly in his hands, squeezing it with all his strength.

Legolas' breath caught in his chest as he heard the distinct _crack_, as the precious stone shattered within the orcs hand.

The orc opened his palm, letting the pieces fall to the ground, raining glimmers of green as the pieces sparkled, dancing through the sky before falling to the ground, losing their shine.

"NOOO," Legolas wailed in horror, a wretchedly heartbroken cry. His heart crashed down to the earth along with the shattered remains of his mother.

A deep merciless laughter filled the dark air, smothering Legolas as he sat there.

Legolas sobbed pitifully as he lamented the loss of his most treasure item. The only connection he had with his mother broken beyond repair, gone forever. The last green leaf of the winter to fall, it shattered, along with his innocence.

Hearing Legolas' heart felt cries, the orc almost regretted it actions. Almost.

Elrohir, laying a distance away could only watch. Helpless in his half-conscious state, fighting the urge to close is eyes. His heart was crushed along with the leaf pendant. To hear such cries coming from an elfling was unbearable. He failed. He could not protect Legolas either.

"Will someone shut up that noise?" one of the orcs gruffly shouted. "It will lead of Shelob's children to us."

"You heard the boss," Zluck shouted, lifting Legolas up by the hem of his collar. "Shut up," he roared, shaking Legolas harshly.

Legolas only wailed louder at the treatment. He felt empty and cold. The pain in his heart hurting, overcome with fear and darkness. There was no comfort. No aid.

"Shut him up now," the orc leader called again. "Force him if you have to."

Legolas' closed his eyes and cringed as he saw Zluk raise his hand. Legolas waited in fear for the orc to strike him, his heart pounding rapidly in his tiny chest.

He waited.

The blow never came. Legolas opened his eyes and saw Zluk lying on the ground with an arrow through his hand, another in his neck.

Before Legolas was aware of what happened he felt familiar warm arms enclose him. He breathed in the familiar scent, losing himself in the comforting embrace. His body shook as he cried even harder in relief.

"A-Ada," Legolas sobbed.

Elrohir saw as a great sense of relief washed over him. Legolas was safe. Now he could rest. Retreating far within himself Elrohir allowed his eyes to finally close, shutting out the world around him. Where he could be safe and alone, unable to longer hurt the ones he cared for.

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N:**

I didn't want this to turn into some cliché story where Legolas is captured and tortured by orcs for like 20 chapters. I'm not a fan of torture stories. I like more emotional torture than physical. I think emotionally hurting someone is way more damaging then physically hurting them. Invisible scars last way longer than physical ones…

Sorry for the long stretch between updates, I had a couple midterms and papers to deal with. I have more next week so there probably won't be an update for about the same amount of time (as this one).

There was no major purpose in regards to the actual plot for me to shatter Legolas' leaf pendant. I was more or less just taking out my frustration out on Legolas. Last week I had my ass handed to me by a structural geology midterm and had to vent out my frustrations. Well I have three more midterms this week. Hopefully those go well or I may have to kill off Elrohir… just kidding.


	13. Greenleaf

**Chapter 12 - Greenleaf**

Overcome with relief Thranduil held his child tightly in his arms fearing to let go. For the Elvenking it was as if time had frozen. He paid little attention to the goings on around him, placing deep trust in his warriors to protect him and his child. Right now all that mattered was Legolas.

"You are safe, I am here," Thranduil whispered to his son, his voice heavily laced with deep emotion.

Legolas sobbed even harder in recognition of his father. He pushed himself farther into the familiar warm embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around his father's neck. He wanted to tell his father all about his leaf pendant, but his words only came out in broken sobs as he choked on his words.

"Shh, Legolas, you are safe," Thranduil comforted, rubbing his elfling's back. "Just close your eyes and focus only on my voice. I am here. All will be well again."

All around them the battle raged on. The elves fought valiantly, unknown to them only a single orc had managed to escape their wrath. During the whole affair Thranduil held Legolas close, blocking the elfling's sight from the onslaught before them. Thranduil managed to contain his emotion, though the thought of nearly losing Legolas almost caused him to break. He held his son tightly unwilling to let go.

As the sounds of battle died down, Thranduil momentarily took his attention away from the crying elfling in his arms. Anfaer, the head commander of all the patrol units was ordering the warriors to secure the area, while others gathered the bodies of orcs for a controlled burning. A small group of elves surrounded the comatose form of Elrohir doing all they could.

Once Thranduil saw that Legolas had calmed down enough, he held his child at arms length and checked him over for injuries. He frowned at the battered condition of his elfling. Angry bruises covered his tiny body, his wrist looked as though it had been broken, and he was pale and shaking. His eyes were red and puffy as tears continued to fall.

Thranduil affectionately rubbed the tears away from Legolas' cheek with his thumb. "You are very brave Legolas," he whispered, kissing his elfling's forehead.

Legolas sniffled as fresh tears ran down his cheeks, his body racked with shivers.

"A-da, they, m-my," he sobbed anew unable to finish.

Thranduil unclasped the broach holding his cloak around him and wrapped the soft material around his shaking elfling.

"All will be well Legolas," he said, before rising to lift his elfling into arms, both gentle and mindful of his son's injuries. A nod from Anfaer told him they were ready to depart.

"N-Nana," Legolas wailed, to his father's surprise, as he hid his face into his father's shoulder. It was impossible for the others around them not to overhear, but the warriors mournfully turned away, trying to give their King privacy. The loss of the Queen still too lay heavy in their hearts. Thranduil could feel the fabric become increasingly damp with Legolas' tears.

"Shh, Legolas, I know, I understand. I miss her too," Thranduil comforted as Legolas sobbed loudly.

The elves had fastened a litter for Elrohir and made the painfully slow journey back to Thranduil's caves, back to the safety of the stone fortress. Thranduil could not wait to arrive back in the north. Looking south always brought painful memories of old, a shadow of a memory so dark it dimed the light of the sun from his eyes.

Thranduil shifted the weight of his son in his arms; he could feel Legolas trembling, so he drew the hood of his cloak up and over the elfling's head, concealing the child. As they walked back Thranduil whispered softly so only Legolas could hear him, hoping to comfort the terrified child. All others were silent, alert, and stoically protective.

Thranduil soothingly rubbed his son's back as he saw Legolas put his thumb into his mouth quietly sucking on it. Thranduil frowned. It was a dreadful habit, one he had thought Legolas had grown out of. It did not take any amount of wisdom to see that it was not worth perusing. Telling Legolas to stop would only serve to further upset the elfling.

Legolas listened to the soft beating of his father's heart. His heart ached for his lost prize. The memory of his mother was gone forever. The thought brought fresh tears upon the elfling's face. He felt so empty. Nothing would ever been the same anymore.

* * *

A dark fog had surrounded Elladan. His dark grey eyes did not once leave the sight of his brother, he silently followed the group back to Thranduil's halls. Weary and weak, he as barely able to keep from falling as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He had used nearly all of his energy healing his brother. Elrohir's wounds were not great but Elladan did not want to take any chances, exerting himself more than he should have.

He nearly rejoiced at the sight of Thranduil's hidden kingdom. From outside Thranduil's halls were no more than a large rock face, natural and barren. If anything, it were the large gates and alignment of trees that gave away that this area was inhabited, but even then it looked abandoned. It was when you passed the impenetrable wall of rock that you would see this area was of elven make and quite lived in.

With a stab of guilt, Elladan's thoughts kept drifting back to his brother. How could he have been so cruel to the one person who meant more to him than himself? Words spoken in anger are always the ones most regretted.

Numb and only half aware of his surroundings, Elladan followed the elves carrying Elrohir as they lead him through the Elvenking's Halls. He parked himself in a chair at his brother's bedside, and watched as Elrohir was cleansed and made comfortable.

A bold healer came over to look at Elladan, but the Peredhil only shied away from the touch, yelling at them to leave him be. He was uninjured and not willing to put up with imposing hands prodding at his body. Elrohir needed care not him. Elladan was personal and did not appreciate being needlessly touched, manhandled like he was an invalid. But the healers were ruthless and not quite ready to give up.

* * *

With the help of Galion and Lealle, Thranduil bathed Legolas. They comforted the child and cared for his injuries, but Legolas would not cease crying. Thranduil grew more concerned. It pained him to see his son in such a state.

He dressed Legolas in a long nightshirt and wrapped him snuggly in a warm blanket. Thranduil cradled Legolas in his arms, slowly rocking the child back and forth. He watched as Legolas fought back sleep, his eyes still brimming with tears. Thranduil softly sang, he sang an old lullaby, one he had been taught as an elfling. The soft tune slowly eased Legolas into a slumber.

Thranduil turned towards Galion whispering, " Come, I shall take him to my chambers tonight.

Thranduil had sent Lealle to rest, for she had grown weary with worry over Legolas. They had nearly arrived to the front of Thranduil's private chambers when, to Thranduil's displeasure, they were stopped by another.

"My lord, a moment?" Anfaer called out. "It is important," he rectified, seeing the King's worn expression.

With a heavy sigh Thranduil reluctantly complied.

"Galion please take Legolas inside," he said, passing the sleeping elfling off to his trusted friend. Legolas stirred as he was shifted around before falling back into a slumber as Galion cradled him.

Once they were alone in the corridor Thranduil sighed, "What is it Anfaer? You know I trust your judgment in these matters."

"It is not that Thranduil, I know not how to put this delicately, but here," he said, placing a thin metal chain in the palm of Thranduil's hand.

"What is - " Thranduil paused, looking at the object. Realizing just what it was, he felt faint as his face lost all trace of color.

"Thranduil?" Anfaer questioned concerned.

"I… I understand now," the King stammered, turning away. "I must see to Legolas."

With a heavy heart Anfaer silently watched his King go, for it was a horrible fate to be the one to bear the burden of such heavy news. He had known Thranduil since the King himself was an elfling; it pained him to his dear friend burdened with such heavy woes.

Thranduil rushed back to his chambers, twirling the thin silver and mithril chain between his fingers. He hoped Legolas' wounds were not too deep to mend.

He gently opened the door to his personal chambers, only to find Galion comforting a distraught Legolas, whispering soft words of comfort in the child's ear while rocking him back and forth.

"I am sorry Thranduil, he awoke as I tried to lay him down."

"It is alright, I did not expect him to stay asleep," Thranduil replied, relieving Galion of his burden.

"I shall be outside should you call," Galion said, sensing his presence was not needed.

Thranduil carried Legolas over to the armchair and sat near the warm fireplace. The pale glow of the burning ember bounced off their faces, as father and son held each other close.

Gently Thranduil wiped the silent tears away from Legolas' face. His heart ached to see his son so upset, it tore at him, no elfling should ever feel such pain, to bear such a burden on such small shoulders.

"Legolas," Thranduil softly said. "I am sorry. I had not been listening to you. You have been telling me all along what was wrong, but I had not seen. You are not alone my son."

Legolas sniffled. "Ada, i-it is gone f-forever," he replied through hiccups.

"Though it pains me, I will not deny it," Thranduil said, placing the silver chain into his son's small hands. "But you do not need jewel as a reminder of your mother's love for you."

Legolas clenched the chain tightly. "B-but it was all I h-had of N-nana, now she is gone f-forever."

Thranduil hugged Legolas tightly. "She is gone, but she is not lost. She now resides in Mando's Halls. For Ilúvatar's will, death is not the end for the Firstborn and through the unveiling of Ilúvatar's song; only at the end will our absolute fate be known. Your Mother loves you; you do not need a gem to tell that, nor to remind yourself of it. You need only to look in a mirror to see how much your mother cares for you."

"Will I ever see Nana again?" Legolas asked. His eyes shone with hope as looked up to meet his father's softened gaze.

"For the Firstborn, all our paths lead to the same place. For many though, the journey is unbearably long."

Legolas accepted his father's words with a small smile. His heart still ached, but the pain had lessened. "The Greenleaf is broken and gone, but Nana's love is still the same," he whispered.

"My Greenleaf is not broken, nor is he gone," Thranduil said, touching his forehead to his son's. "When I fear shadow and darkness you give me light. You, my son, are my greatest treasure, my Greenleaf."

Legolas felt a warm spark grow within him. "I love you Ada," he whispered.

"I love you too, my Greenleaf," Thranduil lovingly replied. "So how about we dry those tears from your eyes?"

Legolas nodded with a small smile. He knew in his heart his father was right and everything would be okay.

Thranduil lifted Legolas up and spun him around in the air. Legolas giggled in mirth before he was plopped on his father's large bed. Before Legolas had a chance to recover, his father was ruthlessly tickling him, albeit carefully, mindful of Legolas' bruises. Legolas squirmed and squealed in joy, before Thranduil took pity and stopped, cuddling him afterwards.

"Are you feeling better now?" Thranduil asked.

Legolas nodded, releasing a large yawn.

"Good," Thranduil softly replied. He tucked Legolas comfortably into the covers and held him close as he softly sang. Slowly Legolas eyes glazed over as he fell asleep with a small smile on his face.

_That is much better_, Thranduil thought.

Slowly as to not awaken Legolas, Thranduil pulled himself away from the child. There was one more thing he decided he must see to before he would allow rest to claim him.

"Galion?" Thranduil softly whispered, opening his chamber door. "Legolas slumbers, will you watch him? I do not wish him to be alone. I shall return shortly."

Galion nodded as he entered the room.

* * *

"That Peredhil is impossible to reason with." Thranduil heard one of the healers say and he approached the guest chambers. The healer was red in the face and visibly flustered.

"Is there a problem?" Thranduil asked.

"Rudiel leaves me with the task of tending to the wakeful one, but he will allow no one touch him."

"I will take care of it," Thranduil said, dismissing the healers.

Thranduil slowly opened the large oak door as to not startle the room's inhabitants. The room was devoid of all sound except for the labored breathing of Elrohir. Thranduil cleared his throat allowing his presence to be noticed as he made his way to where Elladan sat.

Thranduil closed his eyes, as if the sight caused him great pain. He had never seen Elladan look so forlorn and exhausted before. He was unkempt, his hair was a wild mess with loose braids and his clothing was soiled from the previous orc battle. He was barely able to sit up straight in the chair, exhausted from tending to his brother. He sat defensively hugging himself, fighting to stay awake.

"I never thanked you," Thranduil said breaking the silence. "It was by your arrows Legolas was saved."

"The blow would not have been fatal," Elladan whispered.

"True, but it would have hurt him both physically and emotionally. No one has ever laid a hand upon him."

"I hope no one ever will," Elladan softly said.

Thranduil walked up to Elrohir, softly stroking the unconscious elf's cheek with his thumb. "He is cold," Thranduil remarked. "Has he not awoken yet?"

"No," Elladan wearily replied. " I have healed him, but he still sleeps. Something is amiss."

"It has been a trying day. You both are physically and mentally exhausted. You need to rest," Thranduil said as he stood before Elladan, blocking is view of Elrohir. "You have lost much in which you need to recover."

"I cannot," Elladan quietly replied. "I cannot find peace in rest, not until Elrohir as awakened."

Thranduil softly sighed. The sons of Elrond could be awfully stubborn at times. "It will do neither of you any good if you are stumbling over yourself in exhaustion when Elrohir awakens. You must take care of yourself, you are just as important as your brother."

Elladan mournfully nodded as he allowed Thranduil to pull him out of his chair, guiding to the room's vanity. He was weary of fighting off help. Elladan seated himself in the chair as Thranduil handed him a cloth after dipping in the basin of warm water.

Elladan gasped at his appearance. He had never seen himself look so disordered before. Silently Elladan began to clean the dirt and blood from his face and arms as Thranduil worked on his mess of hair, unbraiding and brushing it. The kind gesture momentarily soothed Elladan. Elrond often did this for his sons, Elladan found himself sorely missing the touch of his own father. His father always seemed to know what to do, speaking the words that could ease any troubled heart.

Elladan fought to keep his eyes open. Sore, tired, and utterly exhausted, he allowed Thranduil to help him change into a clean tunic and a loose pair of leggings before settling himself down on the bed beside his brother. How he wished he had the endurance of elves. He was asleep with his eyes closed before his head hit the pillow.

"Rest Peredhil," Thranduil murmured as he silently left the room.

* * *

With a heavy heart Thranduil quietly made his way back to his personal chambers. He thanked Galion for watching Legolas, smiling upon the sleeping form of his child. Legolas' small chest moved up and down with each breath he took lost within a deep state of slumber. Thranduil had come so close to losing his son. He cared for Legolas more than anything; to him Legolas was worth more than any jewel ever made.

Legolas was Thranduil's prime motive for anything he did. He loved the forest, Greenwood or rather Mirkwood, he wanted to protect it and fight for it because it was Legolas' home. Thranduil wished he could hide Legolas away, protect him from all the dangers of the world. But in his heart he knew that was wrong. He could not deny Legolas the chance to explore and learn. He would not hide the world away from his son, or his son away from the world. He could only give Legolas the tools he needed for survival, to teach his son how to live in the world and how to protect himself from danger. Hiding from the darkness does not make it disappear nor does it help you grow stronger.

Thranduil smiled warmly at his sleeping child, bending down to lay a kiss upon his forehead. He tucked the covers more firmly over Legolas before heading to his washing basin. Galion had been kind enough to fill it with warm water. Thranduil took his time brushing his long golden strands until they lay shiny and smooth, framing his face. He washed is face and changed into some loose fitting cloths, before settling himself to lie beside his son. He was not tired but was content with holding Legolas, as the child lay blissfully asleep in his arms.

* * *

With much haste and little rest a lone Orc made its way towards Dol Guldur. With the right amount of encouragement, the stamina of an orc in a hurry was second to none. This Orc had a very important message to deliver to the Dark Lord. A weakness to the Elvenking had been found, a golden haired child to his likeness. Yes the Dark Lord would be very pleased.

* * *

Legolas sat on his bedding holding his stuffed rabbit, lightly swinging his legs against the covers, playing with its soft ears. His mother had made it for him. When he had been really little it was his favorite toy, secretly it still was, but Legolas wouldn't tell anyone, though he suspected his father knew.

The elfling sighed. He was bored. He had woken up hours ago as the sun brightened the forest. Legolas had been enjoying some time with his father in the main hall when Anfaer and Taurlamor interrupted. They were always bothering his father with very boring things, stealing his father's attention away from him. Deep in his heart Legolas wished he could spend every waking hour with is father, but knew that would be impossible. He father was a King, a leader of a great people. Legolas learned early on much to his displeasure that he had to share.

He sighed. He suspected they were talking about everything that happened yesterday. Legolas knew it would be a while. He threw himself backwards onto his bed and thought about everything that happened the other day. Nothing was going to plan. Legolas wanted to see Elladan and Elrohir smile. Instead he felt as if he had made them even sadder. Especially Elladan.

Legolas had gone with his father to visit Elladan and Elrohir. He was upset to find Elladan sitting quietly alone in the dark. Legolas noticed that Elladan always seemed so sad. From the moment they met Legolas could tell something was wrong. Legolas sadly smiled to himself, he was almost afraid of Elladan when then met, Elladan's eyes had reminded him of his father's from when his mother passed, a woeful memory. That's when Legolas had told Elladan about his leaf pendant and Elladan had told him about his mother's star-

Legolas gasped, abruptly sitting up, his stuffed rabbit falling to the ground.

"_The star_," Legolas whispered.

Legolas had thought the object he took from the orc was familiar. Legolas frantically looked around his chamber, searching for the tunic he wore yesterday, the star was still in the pocket! He had to find it. Somehow he just knew it had belonged to Elladan's mother. If he could give it to Elladan it would surely make him happy.

Legolas panicked. He couldn't find the tunic. He had to find it. He just had to. _Lealle! Lealle would know_, Legolas thought.

* * *

"Lealle, Lealle," Legolas called out, running into the sewing room, a look of panic strung across his face.

The sudden change of volume in the normally quiet room caused several elves to prick their fingers on their needles.

"What is wrong Legolas?" Lealle called out in concern, setting aside the tunic she was mending to kneel to the elfling's height.

"My t-tunic from y-yesterday is g-gone," Legolas chocked out, fighting back tears.

"You must calm down tithen pen," she said. "It is nothing to be upset over."

"But, but," Legolas whimpered. "I-in m-my p-pocket…"

Lealle smiled to herself. At the end of every day when she gathered the elfling's clothing for washing, it always amused her to see what little treasures lay in the elfling's pocket. The contents of Legolas' pockets were always unpredictable, she never knew what she would find, and knew better that to throw any of it away. An object important to its owner can mean nothing to another.

"Legolas, what do I always do before I take your clothing to be washed?" she softly asked, taking the elfling's hands in hers.

"You check my pockets," the elfling answered, twisting his foot, looking down towards the ground.

"And if I were to find something, where would I put it?" she reminded.

"On my table," he answered starting to feel foolish.

"And did you check there?"

"No"

"Then perhaps you should tithen pen," she answered with a smile.

He nodded and without a second glance back, Legolas ran out of the sewing room towards his chambers, weaving between the legs of elves he passed. He ran all the way to his chambers, as fast as his little legs could carry him.

* * *

Thranduil was signing off on some documents when Legolas came bursting into his office. The King placed the cap on his vile of ink, and set his feathered quill down in its place. He pushed his chair out a little bit, and reached his arms out towards Legolas, to lift the child onto his lap.

"Is something amiss?" Thranduil asked, noting his son's heavy expression and racing heartbeat.

Legolas shook his head, causing his soft hair to brush against Thranduil's face.

"Is there something I can help you with?" he asked.

Legolas vigorously nodded before producing the star shaped jewel. "I think this belongs to Elladan and Elrohir's Nana," he said.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "I have not seen this in quite some time. How has it come to your possession?"

"I took it from the orc, the one that – the one that, t-that," Legolas stopped. Though his father had calmed the aches in his heart it would still take time for him to grow accustomed to the events that occurred.

"I understand," Thranduil said, kissing Legolas' forehead.

"This," Thranduil said, holding up the star-shaped gem. "This belonged to Celebrían, Elladan and Elrohir's mother. Elrond had made it for her and gave it to her when she passed the Elessar, the Elfstone onto Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir's sister."

"Oh," Legolas said, taking in this new information. "I tried to clean it but it is not very shiny."

"You are right," Thranduil frowned. "A shadow has cast over its glow."

"Can you fix it Ada?" Legolas asked, looking up at his father with wide hope filled eyes.

"It is not in my power to do so. My light will not make it shine anew. A heavy sorrow has the shadow."

"Oh," Legolas dejectedly replied. "I wanted to make it shine again so Elladan would smile."

"You could still return it to him."

"But it needs a chain," Legolas said thoughtfully. He reached into his pocket. "Could we use this Ada?" he asked, producing his silver and mithril chain.

"Are you sure you wish to do this?" Thranduil asked. "There are many other chains you could choose from."

Legolas nodded, "I do not need a chain to remind me of Nana anymore. It would get lonely without a pendant to hold."

"If that is your desire," Thranduil replied.

Legolas smiled brightly. He could not wait to return The Star to Elladan; surely it would make him smile.

_TBC_


	14. Mending Bonds

**Chapter 13 - Mending Bonds**

Legolas meekly pried open the door to the guest chamber. His golden hair fell forward onto his face as he peered into the room. Nervously his brushed his hair aside, making his way forward to where Elladan sat. The elfling stood at Elladan's side and gently placed one of his small hands on the older elf's knee.

Elladan looked down and smiled weakly at Legolas. Legolas sadly noted that Elladan's smile did not reach his eyes.

"Hey little one, how are you feeling? Does your arm hurt you?" Elladan asked, seeing the bandage wrapped around it. He was not aware Legolas had been extensively injured.

Legolas shook his head. "Elrohir made it feel better."

Elladan frowned slightly. Was that why Elrohir had not yet awoken? He had used too much energy in an already weakened state? But no, could that really be it? Usually a night's rest in a deep healing sleep is enough to regain lost energy. Yet Elrohir had not yet awoken. In fact he looked worse off than the night before.

"Umm Elladan," Legolas hesitated, breaking Elladan out of his reverie. "I found something that I think belongs to you."

Elladan raised an eyebrow, giving the elfling his full attention.

Legolas opened his palm. Elladan froze staring at _it_ in a state of complete shock. His heart sped up beating rapidly in his chest, his breathing stilled.

"Is it real?" Elladan asked in a daze, his head felt heavy. He just stared at it. Not touching it, not moving it. Fearing that if he were to touch it, the illusion would break and it would be lost forever.

"Yes," Legolas said. "I took if off an orc. The one that almost hurt me had it."

Elladan's breath caught in his chest. "You mean to tell me that- that those were the orcs that harmed my mother?" he questioned, his head swimming. He found this revelation to be nearly unbearable coupled with the guilt and ever growing sense of dread he felt over Elrohir. He felt as if he were slowly being smothered.

"Umm," Legolas nervously hesitated. "I do not know, but they had this," he said, placing the star like gem into Elladan's hand.

Elladan ran his fingers over the delicate jewel, so expertly made by his father. What was once was lost was now found. It was dull, having lost all trace of light. His father would be saddened.

"The orc that almost hurt you had this in its possession," Elladan repeated, still in a state of disbelief. Though he and Elrohir had endlessly searched, he held no hope that it would actually be found; yet here it was. "The orc _I_ killed had this in its possession," he whispered to himself.

Legolas nodded in confirmation.

Elladan closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Revenge had finally been granted and by his own hand. The orcs that had violated his mother destroying his family had been killed. **Revenge.** But it was not as sweet as he had hoped. Not without Elrohir. His heart sank, _Elrohir_. He had gotten his heart's greatest desire. Their search was finally over. But he did not feel fulfilled. His heart still lay heavy with grief, Elrohir had not awoken and the victory of revenge was meaningless with out Elrohir. Killing those orcs did not make him happy. Killing those orcs would not heal his mother. _Or himself._

It was as his father had said before they left, "_Revenge will not heal your heart, nor will it engender clarity and true peace but rather only instigate violence. Absolution and salvation must come from within. Revenge may stand beside justice, but little if any will it rectify what happened. Please do not do this. Please do not leave." _Elladan now fully understood the meaning behind his father's words. Revenge did nothing to heal his heart, nor did it alleviate his grief. No, revenge is ultimately meaningless. Because once revenge is granted, still nothing will be changed.

_No this time it is worse._

Elladan looked down upon Elrohir's still form in silence. Nothing and no one was more important to him than Elrohir, his other half.

Elladan felt ever-growing guilt over Elrohir. For each minute Elrohir lay still, Elladan felt himself falling deeper into darkness. Elladan realized Elrohir's injuries were not physical, but emotional. He drove Elrohir away. Not just away from himself, but away from the light. And now all he held in his had was his mother's pendant. What he would give to trade it just to hear Elrohir's voice.

The dark atmosphere of the room was almost too much for Legolas to handle. This was not the reaction he had been expecting. Elladan had gotten what he had wanted, why wasn't he satisfied? Legolas did not understand. Then Elladan did something most concerning, something that shook Legolas to the core.

"Elladan?" Legolas hesitated. "Elladan, why are you crying? Are you hurt? I am going to get Ada," he decided, running from the room.

The silence of the room consumed Elladan. Elrohir was right. He was broken.

"It is all my fault, I'm so sorry brother. It's my fault," Elladan said, leaning over his brother's prone lifeless body. Elrohir's lips were blue, and he was cold to the touch, as if he were ice. His breathing was so shallow, barely noticeable. "Please come back to me. I need you. I cannot live without you," Elladan choked through sobs.

Endless tears ran down his cheeks. There was an unbearable sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He felt numb. His brain was foggy and heavy in grief. He couldn't contain it all; it tore at his insides. It was too much. He could not comprehend his surroundings, but it didn't matter where he was anymore. Wherever his brother went, he would soon follow. His attention lay focused on his brother's pale lifeless face. He felt as though he couldn't breath, couldn't move. He was trapped – suffocating. He felt blood rushing to his ears. Dizzy, he was dizzy. Why was this happening? He felt nothing. _Empty._

He wrapped his arms tightly himself and drew his knees up to his chest. He could find no comfort. There was no more light left in this world. It was hopeless. The shadows were swallowing him whole, finally claiming their long awaited prize. His brother was fading and it was his fault, his entire fault. He pushed his brother over the edge. He did this to him.

"Elrohir, it hurts, it hurts so much," Elladan whispered sobbed, clutching the star pendant tightly to his chest. "I cannot deal with this pain."

"You do not have to," Thranduil softly replied, comforting squeezing Elladan's shoulder.

Elladan startled at the contact, he had not heard the Elvenking enter the room, but it did not matter anymore.

The scene was familiar to Thranduil; it was how Elrohir had described his vision, though the roles had been flipped. Perhaps they had been all along, a misinterpretation. Thranduil now knew what must be done. Great visions do not occur by chance, they are messages from the Valar, given to one with purpose and meaning. Thranduil smiled to himself, _a Star shines brightly watching over the Peredhil, sailing across the night sky_.

"I tried everything, his body is healed but he does not awaken," Elladan sobbed, not caring that the Great King Thranduil, one of the Elven Lords he respected the most saw him so broken and weak, at his lowest. "We have not chosen a kindred," Elladan cried. "If Elrohir were to die would his death would be of the fate of the First born or the Second born? I know not. Is there such chance he would be gone forever? I cannot bear it."

"You have already given up," Thranduil stated. "Elrohir still draws breath. Have hope. Open your heart and your mind to Elrohir. Bonds cannot be easily broken, only hidden. Search yourself. The threads that bind you are still there, they need only to be found again."

"It will cause him great pain," Elladan whispered, letting the tears fall freely. "I do not wish to hurt him any further. Is there nothing you can do?"

"Elladan you are blind to yourself, for too long your grief has clouded your mind and your judgment. By closing your bond you hurt Elrohir more than you help him. I know you only wish to protect him. Your intensions are true and admirable, but when one hides the truth to protect someone, the truth hidden only hurts them more in the end. It is best to be honest from the beginning."

"I am afraid," Elladan admitted in a tearful whisper.

"Relinquish your fear. For fear does not exist anywhere but in the mind," Thranduil softly replied.

"I…" Elladan paused.

"It is never to late, come," Thranduil said taking Elladan's hands in his. Gently he pulled Elladan to his feet and walked him over to the bed where Elrohir lay. "Elrohir needs you, open your self to him."

Elladan took his brother's hands within his own, and bent forward, leaning over his prone body, touching his forehead to his brother's. Tears fell from his eyes landing on Elrohir's cheeks. Elladan closed his eyes and concentrated, trying while his whole heart to reach out to Elrohir.

Thranduil left the room as silently as he had come. There was nothing else he could do. It was up to the brothers now to save themselves. Thranduil quietly closed the chamber door, and looked down to find Legolas sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest.

"I am sorry Ada. I did not mean to make Elladan cry," Legolas whispered. "Is he alright?"

Thranduil reached down and lifted Legolas into his arms. "You have nothing to apologize for. Legolas, you have done nothing wrong."

"But will Elladan and Elrohir be alright?" Legolas sniffled.

"Only time will tell," the Elvenking replied. "Why don't we go sit in the garden?"

* * *

Elladan concentrated; he concentrated deeply on only Elrohir. He searched within himself for those bonds, the ones that linked him to Elrohir. Then he saw it, flickering faintly within the depths of his mind, a small light.

Bright like a small star. It was not his light, but his brother's, the one he had been so desperately holding onto. His anchor. He reached out towards it, stretching the very depths of his mind to grasp on to that small flickering light of Elrohir.

Instantly Elladan was flooded with warmth. He could feel his brother's fëa surrounding him, filling the empty vastness within him. How he missed this connection. How he missed Elrohir.

"I am so sorry Elrohir," Elladan cried, his tears spilling over onto his brother's cheeks.

Elrohir lay motionless. Elladan cried even harder. He was too late. Guilt and unbearable sorrow filled him.

"Elrohir, please do not leave me," he sobbed, resting his head on his brother's chest. He could hardly make out Elrohir's faint heartbeat. "I need you."

Elladan's body shook as he sobbed wholeheartedly onto Elrohir. He was so consumed in his grief that Elladan did not notice a warm pair of arms circling him. He did not notice that Elrohir felt warmer or that his heartbeat was healthy and strong He just lay next to Elrohir, his head on his chest, sobbing brokenly.

"Please do not leave me," Elladan hopelessly whispered through tears.

Elrohir hugged Elladan tighter, "I am not going anywhere, my Brother."

Elladan slightly lifted his head to look upon Elrohir's face. "Elrohir?" he questioned.

"It is I," Elrohir replied, reaching up to lightly touch Elladan's cheek.

"I am so sorry, I am sorry for everything," Elladan cried.

"Shhh, dear one. You have no need to apologize. But I am sorry as well. I was cruel," Elrohir replied.

"Nay, you were honest," Elladan said.

"So were you brother," Elrohir replied. "Let us move forward."

Elladan nodded in agreement, crying harder in relief.

"We are stronger together," Elrohir said. He made to reach for Elladan's hand but stopped, noticing something. "Brother what have you in your hand that you grip so tightly?" he asked.

Slowly Elladan unclenched his palm revealing their prize.

"Where did you find this?" Elrohir asked in a state of complete disbelief, tears gathered in his eyes.

"Legolas found it, took off one of the orcs. A dangerously brave feat," Elladan told through tears, handing the pendant to his brother.

Elrohir held it high in the air above them. "Something so small," he whispered, his own small tears escaped his eyes.

The brothers sat close together, tears of sadness and relief ran down their cheeks. The weight of revenge slowly lifted from their shoulders. Together their tears trailed down their cheeks landing onto the pendant and mixing together washing it clear until it shone anew, renewed like their bond, which was now stronger than before.

Elladan's emotional turmoil still cut him deep, but he knew with his brother's help he would slowly mend. It was comforting, that feeling, knowing you're not alone. He soon fell asleep, with his head resting upon his brother's shoulder.

Elrohir smoothed Elladan's hair away. He had his greatest desire; his bond with his brother was mending. Like two halves of a whole, he knew they were stronger together than apart. He twirled the pendant around his fingers, running his hands across the smooth chain, briefly wondering where it came from.

He looked down at his sleeping brother's form. Slowly Elladan would heal, and he would be there to help pick up the pieces of his heart. Elrohir felt foolish for thinking Elladan had abandoned him. They had been together, inseparable for their whole lives. Nothing could ever change that.

And now that their revenge had been granted, he couldn't help but ask a single question, what would they do now?

* * *

Thranduil sat upon the bench under the great tree within his wife's garden, Legolas was tucked safely under his arm, wrapped warmly in his cloak. The leaves gently swayed in the wind as the white flowers danced upon the branches reflecting the light of the moon.

"Look my son, the stars shine brightly tonight," Thranduil said. " Elbereth has gifted us with a wondrous evening."

Legolas looked up and smiled, snuggling closer into his father. "Ada, Eärendil shines brightest of all," he said.

Singing could be heard from the distance as the elves of Mirkwood looked up upon the night sky, praising Elbereth.

"Aye, Legolas. The world all around us constantly changes, but they stars, they remain the same. A small comfort," seeing his son's confused look Thranduil continued. "But you are young and have much to see, one day you shall understand."

* * *

It was evening of the next day. Thranduil and Legolas were seated together in one of the King's private sitting rooms. Thranduil was softly reading some of his favorite poetry to his son. Poetry was one of Thranduil's guilty pleasures, once he became enthralled in reading it was difficult to tear him away.

A soft knock on the door briefly took his attention away as both he and Legolas looked up to find Galion entering the room.

"My Lord, Lords Elladan and Elrohir wish to see you," Galion announced.

Legolas' eyes widened. "They are awake!" he chimed excited.

"Aye let them in!" Thranduil said. "And bring out a bottle of wine and some tea for Legolas."

"Very well my Lord," Galion responded, opening the door wide for the brothers to enter.

The brothers were dressed similarly with meticulously braided hair and finely pressed robes.

"We mean not to disturb you," Elrohir apologetically said entering the room first.

"Ada was reading poetry, would you care to join us?" Legolas asked excited.

"What a courteous offer, but we actually came to speak with you Legolas," Elrohir said, as he and Elladan took a seat on cushioned sofa across from the father and son.

"With me?"

"Aye," Elladan replied. "I, we, had not thanked you yet," he said, taking out his mother's white star pendant. "We had been searching for this for a very long time with little hope. It was slowly destroying me. Not once did I ever think it would be found, or I would be saved in the Taur-e-Ndaedelos, the Forest of Great Fear. So thank you penneth," Elladan said kneeling before Legolas. "I am sorry if I frightened you yesterday."

Thranduil smiled as Legolas stood from his spot and hugged Elladan.

Legolas whispered in Elladan's ear, so only he could hear, "_When the memory of fear and darkness trouble you, this will bring you aid_, that is what Ada said to me when he gave me my Nana's Greenleaf. Now I say it to you as you have your star back."

"Thank you," Elladan replied, struggling to control his emotions, clenching the pendant tightly. "But I must ask, where is your leaf?"

Legolas sadly looked to the ground.

Thranduil placed a hand upon his son's shoulder. "It was crushed by an orc," Thranduil replied.

"I am sorry," Elladan sadly whispered.

"It is alright. It feels strange not to wear it, but I will be okay," Legolas said.

"So that is where the chain came from," Elrohir said. Looked towards Legolas smiling. "Thank your for your gift. It will not be forgotten." Then pendant meant more to Elrohir now than it did before. Not only was the pendant a symbol of their hearts but also holding it up was a symbol of an elfling's courage and friendship.

Legolas returned their smiles as he sat back down next to his father. A knock on the door meant Galion had returned with their beverages.

They sat with Thranduil and Legolas, talking long into the late hours of the evening, sipping on wine. Legolas had contently fallen asleep in his father's arms, his chest rising up and down in peaceful slumber, a hand clenched tightly to lock of his father's golden hair.

"You know Thranduil, Legolas saved my life," Elrohir said thoughtfully, after a few moments of silence. "He shot an arrow at the spider who bit me, distracting it. I am indebt to him. "

Thranduil raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Legolas had failed to inform him on this little detail.

"Then as I am," Elladan added. "For in life or in death, my fate will be the same as Elrohir's. We will not be separated. He saved both of us that day."

"He has a kind heart like his mother," Thranduil replied. "And though he does not realize it yet, he is brave. He will make a great warrior one day."

_TBC _


	15. Revelations

**Chapter 14 – Revelations **

Legolas awoke from his slumber in early hours of the morning. The early morning sky glowed as the sun's first rays filtered through the heavy cover of the forest canopy. Carefully the elfling slid out of bed and slipped his bare feet into a soft pair of deer skin slippers, reaching for his stuffed rabbit.

With a heavy heart Legolas made his way towards Elladan and Elrohir's chambers. He knew this day was bound to happen but it did not mean he had to like it. No, today was the day he dreaded the most. Elladan and Elrohir were to leave once the sun had fully risen.

The brothers had spent the past couple of weeks in Mirkwood. A snowstorm had kept them from their travels, instead spending hours playing with Legolas in snow. Legolas secretly prayed to the Valar for another storm knowing it vain in would not happen, his intensions were purely selfish. He wished that Elladan and Elrohir would decide to stay in Mirkwood with him forever. Then he would not be lonely anymore.

Legolas' eyes began to water as he softly knocked on Elladan's chamber door. Legolas knew Elladan was more calm and patient. He thought that if he could plead his case to Elladan again, Elladan would choose to stay. After all, Legolas knew he only had to convince one of the brothers, for they would not be separated.

Legolas hugged his rabbit tightly as the chamber door opened before him. Elladan's expression was solemn as he gathered the tearful elfling in his arms, sitting with him on his bed.

"Do not be so upset. I know goodbyes are difficult but we will meet again," Elladan consoled.

"But I do not wish you to leave. Before you came here there was hardly anyone to play with," Legolas sniffled. "I do not want to be alone again."

"You are not alone," Elrohir said, as he silently entered the chamber. "You are our Gwador!"

Legolas' eyes brightened.

"And you can always come visit us," Elladan said. "If your Father allows it," he quickly amended, seeing the flicker of hopeful excitement in the elfling's eyes.

Legolas' mind was turning already thinking up ways to persuade his father to allow him to go to Imladris.

"So do not be too saddened," Elrohir said. "We shall come visit you again one day. There will be many chances to meet again. You have our loyalty and our friendship young one."

"And though we may be far away, you will never be far from our hearts," Elladan added.

Legolas shyly smiled.

"Now let us go break our fast, we have packed and should share in a final meal together," Elrohir said.

Together each brother took one of Legolas' hands. Elladan held Legolas stuffed rabbit for him as they made their way towards the dinning halls.

* * *

The Elvenking of Mirkwood clasped hands with Elrohir, touching his forehead to his, before repeating the action with Elladan.

"You are always welcome in my halls," he said. "I shall look forward to the hour in which we meet again!"

"You are kind and great, Thranduil. We owe much and have much to thank you for. We shall look forward to our next meeting!"

Thranduil nodded his head before raising his hand, beckoning two elves with a pair of horses forward.

"Please take these horses, they will lead you safely out from beneath the heavy barrows the forest."

Elladan looked surprised. "Greenwood's Greatest King indeed! Even upon our leaving you show us a great kindness."

"You have saved my son from the hands of orcs, no gift is too great. Within shadows and between trees are no places for creatures as spirited as horses."

Elladan and Elrohir both placed a hand across their chest and bowed before the Elvenking. Having no formal allegiance, their show was of one of deep respect.

The two Silvan elves quickly checked over the horses as the twins made their final farewells to Legolas. It nearly broke their hearts to see the elfling so upset. For a moment they were almost tempted to stay in Mirkwood.

Legolas had tried his best to hold back his tears and appear strong like his father. But he could not do it. The thought of Elladan and Elrohir leaving upset him too much. His heart ached. He had had so much fun with them and could not bare the thought of a day without them. He would be lonely again.

Each brother hugged Legolas goodbye, placing a kiss on his forehead before passing him off to Thranduil. With heavy hearts they mounted their horses, for they owed much to Thranduil and Legolas, more than they could ever give in return. They would forever be indebted to their distant kin of Mirkwood.

Legolas cried broken-heartedly into his father's shoulder as he watched the two sons of Elrond, his best friends, dressed in the garb of his people ride out into the forest.

* * *

A raging blizzard tore through Mirkwood, forcing Legolas to find what little enjoyment there be had within his father's caverns. As of late he had found sleep difficult, plagued by the memories of the orcs. The elfling would not admit it to anyone, but the dark creatures truly scared him. He would often seek comfort in the only form he could, his father.

"Ada what are you doing?" Legolas asked peering over his father's desk. The hour was late and it was long past the time the elfling should have been asleep.

"Hmm, oh I am just signing off on some of the official paper work from _that_ night," Thranduil replied. "All thirty-five orcs had been destroyed," he muttered to himself.

"Thirty-five? But there were thirty-six orcs Ada," Legolas confidently said.

Thranduil paled. "What?" he exclaimed, then cleared his throat. "I mean are you sure of this? Are you absolutely sure Legolas?"

Legolas nodded. "Oh yes Ada," he said. "I could never forget," he whispered looking towards the floor. "You told me to always pay attention to my surroundings, so I remembered and did."

Thranduil's body shook with anger. Slowly he brought his hands up to his head, to message his temple. It would not do well to exert rage with Legolas in the room. In inhaled deeply in a feeble attempt to calm himself.

It was no use though. If Dol Guldur got word that he had a son, it was not only the Woodelves of Mirkwood who would be in danger, but also Legolas himself. It did not take one of great knowledge to know that golden blond hair was a rarity amongst elves; few were gifted with the lightness of such color. The majority of Silvan elves had dark hair, while a few others had silver, like the moon. But Legolas was in his likeness, making him an obvious target.

"Ada, are you alright?" Legolas asked worriedly.

Thranduil feebly smiled down at his son, reaching down to lift the elfling upon is lap. "Hmm I wonder," he spoke, lost in thought.

* * *

It was long and tedious journey back to Imladris. For even the most experienced riders and most seasoned travellers the journey would take over full cycle of the moon. The brothers were riding upon their twentieth sunrise when they finally reached the foothills east of the Misty Mountains, almost halfway there.

The late winter wind tore through their hair, blowing it wildly as they rode on. Though both brothers badly wished to return home, they both felt hesitant about doing so. It had been many years since they left, and not on good terms either. They could not help but to wonder if they would be wholly welcomed back.

Those thoughts troubled their minds as they rode on, long and hard through the Redhorn Gate, the treacherous Caradhras of the Misty Mountains.

It was on their twenty-second day when the weather became unusually calm in the normally notoriously brutal pass. Only a fresh blanket of snow laid hindrance to their destination, when Elladan suddenly stopped, troubled by his thoughts, realizing just where they were.

"Elladan we must not linger," Elrohir called out from ahead. "The wind has been most kind to us but it is unpredictable and could soon change."

Elladan reflected upon his surroundings. This was where it all happened. His heart felt heavy with sorrow. To think of the unimaginable pain and suffering his mother was subjected to in these lands was unbearable.

Lost in his dark thoughts, Elladan felt a warm hand brush against his cheek and looked up to meet his brother's eyes. "I am sorry, it pains me to think of her suffering," he whispered.

"I know," Elrohir replied. "It pains me too. It is best not to dwell on what cannot be undone. Let us take ease in knowing she now finds healing in Valinor."

Elladan nodded blinking away tears. Since he had reconnected his bond with Elrohir, Elladan had found his emotions difficult to control. He felt unstable like at any moment he could either burst into tears or burst into laughter. Right now he was experiencing one of those tearful moments.

"Mayhap we should take rest?" Elrohir suggested. "We have worked the horses hard today."

"I do not wish to enter a cave," Elladan blurted. "Please, not in Caradhras."

"There is no need," Elrohir said, lightly dismounting his horse. Elladan stayed seated upon his as Elrohir lead them to an overhanging cliff face. "Here the mountain will block any approaching wind."

Elladan nodded, dismounting his horse in silence. He sat against the rock race, his eyes staring off into the distance, unfocused. With Elrohir's help he was getting better, but sometimes, he still felt hollow, unable to yet wholly accept what had happened.

"Are you well?" Elrohir asked guiltily, taking a seat next to his brother.

Elladan sadly turned towards Elrohir, shaking his head as Elrohir smoothed the hair away from his cold face. Nowadays Elladan found it easier to allow Elrohir to care for him than to fight it. Feeling vulnerable, any comforting touch was welcomed.

"Elladan?" Elrohir suddenly asked. His voice was the only sound that could be heard, seemingly echoing off the tall mountains around them. "I have been wondering for a while now, what shall we do now? I mean we have not lived at home since Nanneth left. Life there will not be the same. I cannot bare it. Revenge has been found yet I still feel empty. For we have truly accomplished nothing."

"Aye," Elladan replied. "I do not think I could truly find happiness at home with things changed so much. I cannot explain it. I shall never forgive and can never forget what happened to Nanneth."

Elrohir nodded. "I feel the same. Things will be different," he softly said.

"I want them DEAD," Elladan nearly shouted, surprising Elrohir. "I cannot stand, how… how so many of those creatures walk free, doing as they will. I want them gone. I HATE THEM. I HATE ORCS. I HATE THEM ALL."

Elrohir stared at Elladan in shock; such behavior was so unlike his brother. "Elladan, be calm. We have learned revenge solves nothing."

"This is no longer about revenge. What of others? What of those that are unable to defend themselves against hoards of orcs? What of them? Nobody deserves such a fate. Orcs run freely. They have too much power. In Mirkwood, what if we were unable to reach you and Legolas in time. What would they have done to the elfling? Oh Valar, an elfling!"

"Elladan, no such was our fate. All is well. Do not despair over what has not occurred."

"But what of others? I understand now, I want to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. I think Nanneth would of wished that. If something _good_ were to come of what happened to her, let it be that we shall fight for others. In her honour let us save those who cannot save themselves, so no orc shall ever harm them."

Elrohir stared at Elladan in a state of mixed awe and wonder. With all this heart he agreed to what his twin was saying.

With a burst of passion Elrohir stood from where he sat. "Then let us make an oath!" he declared, as a beam of sun shone through the clouds.

Elrohir reached down, pulling Elladan to his feet. They stood beneath the ray of sunlight, raising their swords high in the air towards Manwë. Both of their eyes flashed with purpose and a new light.

"Let us swear an Oath by witness of Manwë, Mandos and all the Valar that we shall not leave Arda nor be at peace until all orcs have been purged from this land!"

The wind stilled and all around them was silent. They stood there, with their swords raised high for what felt like an eternity before an eagle flew overhead, bringing with it a warm breeze. Their oath had been heard.

* * *

Elrond subconsciously shuttered, he could not explain why but he got this horrid sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, like something had gone wrong. Pushing his chair away from his desk he brought his hands up to his forehead, messaging his brow.

It had been a trying week for him. Arahad son of Araglas, Chieftain of the Dúnedain had been brought to Imladris for care, sick with old age. He had passed away three evenings ago. His son Aragost and grandson Aravorn lay troubled with grief chose to rest in Imladris needing time to heal their hearts. Soon though they would require an escort back to their lands, for their people had already left.

Mournfully Elrond looked out the window lost in the harmonious tumbling of the waterfalls surrounding him, softly echoing The Music of Ainur. Little peace was in his heart these days, for his wife was gone and he had not seen any of his beloved children in nearly a decade, short by the time of elves but long in his heart.

A quickened pace coming from down the hallway told him someone was approaching his office. He looked up from his thoughts just in time to see Lindir entering the room.

Lindir paused at the doorframe. Seeing his Lord's solemn expression he asked: "My Lord Elrond, are you alright?"

"I am well Lindir. You move quickly, what news do you carry with you?"

"My Lord, two cloaked messengers dressed in the garb of Mirkwood have arrived. They hide behind the hoods of their cloaks, refusing to speak to all others name for you," Lindir frantically said. "I fear something ill must have reached Mirkwood."

"I shall see them at once," Elrond said, quickly standing from his chair.

Elrond entered the chamber to find two identically cloaked figures standing with their backs towards him. He could not help but feel a sort of unexplained familiarity with them, but quickly brushed those thoughts away.

"Welcome to Imladris, Messengers of Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood," he greeted in the Silvan dialect. "You need not to hide your faces in Imladris my forest kindred."

Both figures turned towards him at the exact same moment, mirroring each other's movement as they lowered their dark hoods, revealing their identical faces. Elrond stood before them in a state of disbelief.

"Hello Father," they spoke together, approaching him.

"My Sons!" Elrond said rushing forwards, enveloping them both in a large hug. "My Sons have returned home to me! I feared this day would not come," he whispered.

"Aye, we are here father," Elrohir replied. "We are sorry to have made you wait for so long."

For the first time since before Celebrían's torment, Elrond's heart was filled with pure joy. He noted the light in his son's eyes, and smiled. Their hearts were healing.

His ears did not miss a nearly silent sniffling sound, and found himself surprised to see tears flowing down Elladan's cheeks. Elrond wrapped both arms around his son smoothing his hair.

"Elladan you cry," he said in disbelief. This was unlike the closed off and emotionally devoid son whom had left him all those years ago.

Elrond felt Elladan tighten his hold around him as he smoothed back his son's hair. Elrond met eyes with Elrohir who only nodded towards his father.

"Come," Elrond said. "Let us find somewhere to sit. I must hear all about your travels. I am most curious as to why you are dressed in the garb of Thranduil's people."

Wrapping an arm around each of his sons, Elrond lead them out of the receiving chamber towards his favorite balcony, offering his favorite views of Imladris.

* * *

They sat in a comfortable silence for quite some time. Elladan's tears had dried and he now comfortably rested his head upon his father's sturdy shoulder. Elrohir told bits and pieces of their travels. Elladan and Elrohir had agreed not to mention their oath to their father, not yet anyways. They would tell him eventually, but did not wish to dampen their return with news they knew their father would not take well to.

"Adar," Elladan said suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his tunic. "It is time we return this to you," he said, pulling out his mother's star shaped pendant, passing it to his father.

"So you have found the ones responsible," Elrond said.

"Aye," Elladan replied, as he started to retell the events of how they reclaimed their lost prize.

Elrond held up the gem, he marveled at how it sparkled in the light, brighter than he remembered. _Mayhap I'll give it to Arwen_, he thought. _For it shall one day return to Celebrían's sight._ He smiled to himself. _Yes, so it shall be_.

_**Fin**_

* * *

**Keep your eyes open for a sequel**. I think Legolas is due to spend some time in Imladris. I purposely left some loose strings for the very idea. I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed, commented, favorited and sent me a pm in regards to this story! You guys are amazing. I wrote this for my own enjoyment, but it warms my heart to see that you all like it too! THANK YOU! **Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter, and in general the story as a** **whole!** Read the Author's Notes for some additional background information on the story.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Who or what was _The Catalyst? _**

This chapter is pretty much the whole point of the story. In LOTR I always questioned why Elladan and Elrohir chose to stay in Rivendell instead of sailing to Valinor with their father and be reunited with their mother. Especially since Tolkien himself wrote, "_Elladan and Elrohir were out upon errantry: for they rode often far afield with the Rangers of the North, forgetting never their mother's torment in the dens of the orcs._" I mean they were clearly pretty upset over what happened to her. Then I got to thinking, well maybe something is keeping them from leaving Middle Earth, and then I thought, "What about an Oath?" Having read The Silmarillion, I know the Noldor are pretty hardcore when it comes to keeping oaths. So I thought, "What if Elladan and Elrohir made some sort of oath keeping then bound to Middle Earth, preventing them from sailing to Valinor to see their mother."

Which is why this chapter is the point of the story. Everything that occurred in Mirkwood was the catalyst for them making an oath, resulting in them staying in Middle Earth after the War of the Ring. And I bet you all thought The Catalyst was Legolas (which isn't entirely incorrect in some aspects of the story).

**Author's Notes: Celebrían's Necklace**

Just to clear things up, the star pendant is not the Evenstar, but in fact a different jewel. If you have read the books, in ROTK, it's the jewel Arwen gives Frodo.

**" **_But Queen Arwen said: 'A gift I will give you. For I am the daughter of Elrond. I shall not go with him now when he departs to the Havens; for mine is the choice of Lúthien, and as she so have I chosen, both in the sweet and in the bitter. But in my stead you shall go, Ring-bearer, when the time comes, and if you then desire it. If your hurts grieve you still and the memory of your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the west, until all your wounds and weariness are healed. But wear this now in memory of Elfstone and Evenstar with whom your life has been woven!' _

_And she took a white gem like star that lay upon her breast hanging upon a silver chain, and she set the chain about Frodo's neck. 'When the memory of the fear and the darkness troubles you,' she said, 'this will bring you aid.' _**" – **The Return of the King, Many Partings


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